saw her once, on what pretext could he seek for a second meeting?

Possibly he would not desire it. Eve in her own person might
disenchant him.

Meanwhile he had discovered the house, and without further debate he
knocked. The door was opened by a woman of ordinary type,
slatternly, and with suspicious eye.

"Miss Madeley _did_ live here," she said, "but she's been gone a
month or more."

"Can you tell me where she is living now?"

After a searching look the woman replied that she could not. In the
manner of her kind, she was anxious to dismiss the inquirer and get
the door shut. Gravely disappointed, Hilliard felt unable to turn
away without a further question.

"Perhaps you know where she is, or was, employed?"

But no information whatever was forthcoming. It very rarely is under
such circumstances, for a London landlady, compounded in general of
craft and caution, tends naturally to reticence on the score of her
former lodgers. If she has parted with them on amicable terms, her
instinct is to shield them against the menace presumed in every
inquiry; if her mood is one of ill-will, she refuses information
lest the departed should reap advantage. And then, in the great
majority of cases she has really no information to give.