said at last, after a deep pause, in a very hushed voice:

"Why, how did you get this? It wasn't put in the papers."

"No," I answered quietly, "it wasn't put in the papers. For reasons
of their own, the police kept it unpublished."

Jane gazed at the proof still closer. "They oughtn't to have done
that," she said.

"They ought to have sent it out everywhere broadcast--so that
anybody who knew the man could tell him by his back."

That seemed to me such obvious good sense that I wondered to myself
the police hadn't thought long since of it; but I supposed they had
some good ground of their own for holding it all this time in their
own possession.

Jane went on talking to me still for many minutes about the scene:

"Ah, yes; that was just how he lay, poor dear gentleman! And the
book on the chair, too! Well, did you ever in your life see anything
so like! And to think it was taken all by itself, as one might say,
by magic. But there! your poor papa was a wonderful clever man. Such
things as he used to invent! Such ideas and such machines! We were
sorry for him, though we always thought, to be sure, he was dreadful
severe with you, Miss Una. Such a gentleman to have his own way, too
--so cold and reserved like. But one mustn't talk nothing but good
about the dead, they say. And if he was a bit hard, he was more than
hard treated for it in the end, poor gentleman!"