Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. “I am under police surveillance,” she said. ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. ‘André? Que dit-il?’ ‘My wife does not understand,’ said the fellow, frowning deeply. " "Run along, then. "May I ask whether you made any further inquiries into the mysterious affair about which we were speaking just now?" observed Jackson, turning to the carpenter.
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