in a sewer having leaked, and they were moving some of the departments
to an upper floor. I had expected to have him in the house that
evening, and now I was left alone again.

But, as it happened, I was not alone. Mr. Graves, one of the city
detectives, came at half past six, and went carefully over the
Ladleys' room. I showed him the towel and the slipper and the
broken knife, and where we had found the knife-blade. He was very
non-committal, and left in a half-hour, taking the articles with him
in a newspaper.

At seven the door-bell rang. I went down as far as I could on the
staircase, and I saw a boat outside the door, with the boatman and a
woman in it. I called to them to bring the boat back along the hall,
and I had a queer feeling that it might be Mrs. Ladley, and that I'd
been making a fool of myself all day for nothing. But it was not Mrs.
Ladley.

"Is this number forty-two?" asked the woman, as the boat came back.

"Yes."

"Does Mr. Ladley live here?"

"Yes. But he is not here now."

"Are you Mrs. Pittock?"

"Pitman, yes."