"It must be murder at
least," she wailed, almost dropping the candle in her fright;
"lor! do tell me, sir, that Thomas have not murdered anyone."
"Lead us down to the sitting-room and we'll tell you, Mrs.
Barnes."
"I can't do that, sir, Mr. Clancy may be 'ome any moment"
"Isn't he at home now?"
"Bless you, no, Mr. Jennings, he being fond of goin' out, not
that he's an old man, and why shouldn't he enjoy hisself. Not
that a woman could wish for a better lodger, though he only
bin 'ere a week or so, he givin' no trouble and havin' a
latch-key."
"I want to see Mr. Clancy also," said Jennings impatiently,
while Twining turned on the electric light in the hall. "Take
us down to the basement."
The woman would have objected again, but from the stern
expression on her visitors' faces she judged that it would be
wiser to obey. She descended, candle in hand, turning on the
lights as she went down. In the sitting-room she paused and
faced the detective. "Do tell me what's wrong, sir?" she
asked. "Thomas is a fool, but we're newly wed and I shouldn't
like anything to 'appen to 'im, though he do take fondly-like
to the bottle."
"When did Thomas go out?"
"At eight, and Mr. Clancy at nine, though Mr. Clancy havin' a
latch-key, don't give me trouble lettin' him in which Thomas
does."
"Ah!" said Jennings, with a side-glance at the inspector, "so
your husband goes out often?"
"He do, sir. Three times a week.
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