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Updated: June 14, 2025
Ashton I've often seen sitting in a particular corner, smoking their cigars, and talking together. And if it's of any importance I saw them talking like that, at the Grey Mare, the very evening that that Mr. Ashton died, Mr. Viner." "What time was that?" asked Viner. "About the usual time, sir nine-thirty or so," replied Barleyfield. "I generally look in about that time nine-thirty to ten."
"Did you leave them talking there?" inquired Viner. "They were there when I left, sir, at a quarter past ten," answered Barleyfield. "Talking in their usual corner." "And you say you don't know who this man is?" "I don't! I know him by sight but he's a comparatively recent comer to the Grey Mare. I've noticed him for a year or so not longer." Viner glanced at the two ladies.
"I suppose you never heard Mr. Ashton mention the Grey Mare?" he asked. "We never heard Mr. Ashton say anything about his movements," answered Miss Wickham. "We used to wonder, sometimes, if he'd joined a club or if he had friends that we knew nothing about." "Well," said Viner, turning to the florist, "do you think you could take me to the Grey Mare, Mr. Barleyfield?"
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