‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. She followed the official back into his room. “Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although we never take in promiscuous travellers. He did not come out of his chloroform coma and sailed weakly to his death. ‘Never mind that now. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. She wanted to know. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced.
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