I fancy she came back--"
"But how can you--"
"There's no more time to talk," interrupted Jennings. "We
must get to work as soon as possible. Order your men to
surround the house."
"And the park also?"
"We have not enough men for that. And I don't think there's
any other exit from the factory save that through Rose
Cottage. If there was, Maraquito and her two friends would
not have played whist so persistently with Miss Loach every
night."
"It was three times a week, I think."
"Well, it doesn't matter. Here we are." Jennings opened the
garden gate and walked boldly up the path towards the silent
house. The men, under the low-spoken directions of Twining,
spread themselves round the house so as to arrest any coiner
who might attempt escape. Then the detective rang the bell.
There was no answer for a few minutes. He rang again.
A window in the cottage was opened cautiously, and the head of
Mrs. Pill, in a frilled nightcap of gigantic size, was thrust
out. "Is that you, Thomas, coming home at this late hour the
worse for drink, you idle wretch, and me almost dead with want
of sleep."
"It's a message from your husband, Mrs. Barnes," said
Jennings, signing to Twining to keep out of sight. "Come and
open the door, and I'll tell you what has happened."
"Oh, lor! is Thomas gone the way of flesh?" wailed Mrs.
Barnes, formerly Pill. "Come to the cottage door."
"No. Open this one," said Jennings, who had his own reasons
for this particular entrance being made use of.
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