Hereward. Could it be, he asked himself, that she had gone to the upper room of the Tower the day she was murdered? Or had she perhaps been in the habit of going there, unknown to her husband and other members of the household at Friars' Moat? This idea upset his theories, but he could fit it in, in several different ways, doubtless, when he had had time to think the puzzle out. Lady Hereward might have been induced to visit the tower by a letter from Ian Barr, either signed or anonymous. Or it might still be that Miss Verney was the other who used the brown silk hairpins, in spite of the fact that Mrs. Barnard described that person as "not what you'd call a lady."
"Has Miss Verney a fancy for the same sort of pins?" the detective asked, with boyish slyness which was engaging rather than repulsive.
"Dear me, no, they'd be the wrong shade for her hair," replied Rose, scorning his masculine ignorance. "I don't know what sort of hairpins she wears, I'm sure, but she wouldn't choose this sort, anyway."
"How do you know about Lady Hereward? Did you ever notice them in her hair?"
"No, I can't say I did, though she came here fairly often, to leave some little present for Poppet. She was very kind to Poppet, yet the queer thing is, the child never cared for her. Her ladyship seemed to know that, and have a kind of pride in trying to gain the little thing's affection. But she never could."
