"Ah!" ses the landlord.

"There's no mud on 'is clothes," ses the policeman, looking me over with
his lantern agin.

"He must 'ave gone in naked, but I should like to see 'is legs to make--
All right! All right! Keep your 'air on."

"You look arter your own legs, then," I ses, very sharp, "and mind your
own business."

"It is my business," he ses, turning to the landlord. "Was 'e strange in
his manner at all when 'e was in your place to-night?"

"He smashed one o' my best glasses," ses the landlord.

"So he did," ses the policeman. "So he did. I'd forgot that. Do you
know 'im well?"

"Not more than I can 'elp," ses the landlord. "He's been in my place a
good bit, but I never knew of any reason why 'e should try and do away
with 'imself. If he's been disappointed in love, he ain't told me
anything about it."

I suppose that couple o' fools 'ud 'ave stood there talking about me all
night if I'd ha' let 'em, but I had about enough of it.

"Look 'ere," I ses, "you're very clever, both of you, but you needn't
worry your 'eads about me. I've just been having a mud-bath, that's
all."