"She wouldn't eat a bit o' supper," went on old Matthew. "But that was
nothing," he added; "she used to say she had plenty of food here,
without eating ours. She sat apart by the fire with one o' the little
uns in her lap. She didn't stay over long; she said the missus might be
wanting her, and she left; and when she was kissing my poor old face,
she began sobbing. Robin offered to see her home--"

"And she wouldn't have it," interrupted Robin, looking up for the first
time with a wild expression of despair. "She said she had things to get
at Mother Duff's, and should stop a bit there, a-gossiping. It'll be on
my mind by day and by night, that if I'd went with her, harm couldn't
have come."

"And that was how she left you," pursued Mr. Verner. "You did not see
her after that? You know nothing further of her movements?"

"Nothing further," assented Robin. "I watched her down the lane as far
as the turning, and that was the last."

"Did she go to Mrs. Duff's, I wonder?" asked Mr. Verner.

Oh, yes; several of those present could answer that. There was the
parcel brought up by Dan Duff, as testimony; and, if more had been
needed, Mrs. Duff herself had afforded it, for she made one of the crowd
outside.

"We must have Mrs. Duff in," said Mr. Verner.

Accordingly, Mrs. Duff was brought in--a voluble lady with red hair. Mr.