"Nothing easier, sir--open to one and all!"

"Then, if you've the time to spare, we'll go now," said Viner. He lingered
behind a moment to tell Miss Wickham of Mr. Pawle's appointment for the
morning, and then went away with Barleyfield in the Notting Hill
direction. "I suppose you've been at the Grey Mare since Mr. Ashton's
death?" he asked as they walked along.

"Once or twice, sir," replied Barleyfield.

"And you've no doubt heard the murder discussed?" suggested Viner.

"I've heard it discussed hard enough, sir, there and elsewhere," replied
the florist. "But at the Gray Mare itself, I don't think anybody knew
that this man who'd been murdered was the same as the grey-bearded
gentleman who used to drop in there sometimes. They didn't when I was
last in, anyway. Perhaps this gentleman I've mentioned to you might
know--Mr. Ashton might have told his name to him. But you know how it is
in these places, Mr. Viner--people drop in, even regularly, and
fellow-customers may have a bit of talk with them without having the
least idea who they are. Between you and me, sir, I came to the
conclusion that Mr. Ashton was a man who liked to see a bit of what we'll
call informal, old-fashioned tavern life, and he hit on this place by
accident, in one of his walks round, and took to coming where he could be
at his ease--amongst strangers."

"No doubt," agreed Viner.

He followed his guide through various squares and streets until they came