that one servant would be kept than two. Dorrington hurried after the girl, and, changing his manner of address to that of a civil labourer, said—
"Beg pardon, Miss, but is Mary Walker still in service at your 'ouse?"
"Mary Walker?" said the girl. "Why, no. I never 'eard the name. And there ain't nobody in service there but me."
"Beg pardon—it must be the wrong 'ouse. It's my cousin, Miss, that's all."
Dorrington left the girl and returned to the public-house. As he reached it he perceived a second noticeable thing. Although it was broad daylight, there was now a light behind the solitary window at the top of the side-wall of Naylor's house. Dorrington slipped through the swing-doors of the public-house and watched through the glass.
It was a bare room behind the high window—it might have been a bathroom—and its interior was made but dimly visible from outside by the light. A tall, thin woman was setting up an ordinary pair of house-steps in the middle of the room. This done, she turned to the window and pulled down the blind, and
