she had once been heard to complain; and, when she said "specimen," it
was obviously beetles that she had in mind.

"Everybody knows old Mr. Saffron--by sight, I mean--and the woman who
does for him," she said. "There's never been anything remarkable about
_them_. He took his walk as regular as clockwork every afternoon, and she
bought just the same things every week; her books must have tallied
almost to a penny every month, Mrs. Naylor! I know it! And it was a very
rare thing indeed for Mr. Saffron to go to London--though I have known
him to be away once or twice. But very, very rarely!" She paused and
added dramatically, "Until the armistice!"

"Full of ramifications, that event, Miss Wall. It affects even my
business." Mr. Naylor, though now withdrawn from an active share in its
conduct, was still interested in the large shipping firm from which he
had drawn his comfortable fortune.

She looked at him suspiciously, as he put the ends of the slender white
fingers of his two hands together, and leant forward to listen with that
smile of his and eyes faintly twinkling. But the problem was seething in
her brain; she had to go on.

"A week after the armistice Mr. Saffron went to London by the 9.50. He
traveled first, Anna."

"Did he, dear?" Mrs. Naylor, a stout and placid dame, was not yet stirred
to excitement.

"He came down by the 4.11, and those two men with him. And they've been
there ever since!"