I saw that this proposition attracted her—she was not beyond feeling something of the fascination which is exercised upon some people by the inspection of the relics of strange crimes.
"Let us go, then," she said. "This afternoon?"
I had a mind, myself, to have another look at that tobacco-box; Mr. Cazalette's hints about it, and his mysterious secrecy regarding his photographic experiments, made me inquisitive. So after lunch that day Miss Raven and I walked across country to the police-station, where we were shown into the presence of the inspector, who, in the midst of his politeness, frankly showed his wonder at our pilgrimage.
"We have come with an object," said I, giving him an informing glance. "Miss Raven, like most ladies, is not devoid of curiosity. She wishes to see that metal tobacco-box which was found on Salter Quick."
The inspector laughed.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "The thing that the old gentleman—what's his name? Mr. Cazalette?—was so keen about photographing. Why, I don't know—I saw nothing but two or three surface scratches inside the lid. Has he discovered anything?"
"That," I answered, "is only known to Mr. Cazalette himself. He preserves a strict silence on that point. He is very mysterious about the matter. It is his secrecy, and his mystery, that makes Miss Raven inquisitive."
"Well," remarked the inspector, indulgently, "it's a curiosity that can very easily be satisfied. I've got all Quick's belongings here—just as they were put together after being exhibited before the coroner." He unlocked a cupboard and pointed to two bundles
