Steynholme."

"In-deed, sir?"

"Well, you and these other gentlemen may judge for yourselves. It will
be no secret tomorrow. I am the husband of the lady who was found in the
river outside Mr. Grant's residence this morning."

Sensation, as the descriptive reporters put it. Mr. Tomlin was dumbly but
unanimously elected chairman of the meeting, and was vaguely aware of his
responsibilities. He drew himself a fresh glass of bitter.

"You don't tell me, sir!" he gasped. "Well, the idee! The pore lady's
letters were addressed to Miss Adelaide Melhuish. Perhaps you don't know,
sir, that she stayed here!"

"Oh, yes. I was told that by the local police-constable. Have I, by any
chance, been given her room?"

"No, sir. Not likely. It's locked, and the police have the key till the
inquest is done with."

"As for the name," explained Ingerman, in his suave voice, "that was a
mere stage pseudonym, an adopted name. My wife was a famous actress, and
there is a sort of tacit agreement that a lady in the theatrical
profession shall be known to the public as 'Miss' rather than 'Mrs.'"

"Well, there!" wheezed Tomlin. "Who'd ever ha' thought it?"

The landlord was not quite rising to the occasion. He was, in fact,