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Updated: May 9, 2025
It was No. 13, and was said to be haunted, as cries had been heard in it at night, and lights had been seen flitting from window to window when no one was in the house. I looked at it without entering, or calling on the landlord, and then I went into Jersey Street to see the back. The house in the same section with it was kept by a Mrs. Bensusan, who took in lodgers.
Bensusan were asleep to murder Vrain, between the hours of eleven and twelve on the same night. This was all plain enough, but Lucian was puzzled by the account of Mr. Wrent.
Denzil," said the former, repeating her earlier question, "what is to be done now? Shall we see Mrs. Vrain?" "Not yet," replied Lucian quickly. "We must secure proofs of Mrs. Vrain's being in that yard before we can get any confession out of her. If you will leave it in my hands, Miss Vrain, I shall call on Mrs. Bensusan." "Who is Mrs. Bensusan?" "She is the tenant of the house in Jersey Street.
Yet, I don't know. Women are wonderfully soft-hearted, and certainly Rhoda is thought no end of by that fat woman." "Well! well!" said Lucian, impatient of this digression. "So Rhoda went back to her tribe?" "Yes, sir; and as she was sharp, clever, and, moreover, came with some money which she had stolen from Mrs. Bensusan for she added theft to ingratitude she was received with open arms.
Bensusan gasped like a fish out of water, and patted her fat breast with her fat hand, as though to give herself courage. "It is not like a gentleman to say that another gentleman's his friend when he ain't," she said, with an attempt at dignity. "Very true," answered Lucian, with great composure, "but you know the saying, 'All is fair in love and war. I will be plain with you, Mrs.
Bensusan and her sharp handmaid in the most exhaustive manner, and did his best to trace out the mysterious Wrent who had so much to do with the matter. He even called on Dr. Jorce at Hampstead, to satisfy himself as to the actual time of Ferruci's arrival in that neighbourhood on Christmas Eve.
Bensusan six months; came to her house about the time Mr. Berwin hired No. 13." "Very strange!" assented Lucian, to stop further comment. "What kind of a man was this Mr. Wrent?" "I don't know. I never heard much about him," replied Miss Greeb regretfully. "May I ask why you want to know all this, Mr. Denzil?"
Bensusan was the sovereign, Rhoda the prime minister. This position she had earned by dint of her own sharpness in dealing with the world. And the local tradesmen were afraid of Rhoda. "Mrs. Bensusan's devil," they called her, and never dared to give short weight, or charge extra prices, or pass off damaged goods as new, when Rhoda was the purchaser.
You ain't going to talk bad of Mr. Wrent?" "It ain't bad, and it ain't good," replied Rhoda. "It's betwixt and between." "Well, I must 'ear all. I don't want the character of the 'ouse took away," said Mrs. Bensusan, with an attempt at firmness. "That's all right," rejoined Rhoda reassuringly, "you can jine in yerself when y' like. Fire away, Mr. Denzil." "Who is Mr.
"Ah!" groaned the fat woman, looking tearfully over her double chin, "I see you have heard of it." "Everybody has heard of it," replied Lucian, "and I was one of the first to hear, since I live in Miss Greeb's house, opposite No. 13." "Indeed, sir!" grunted Mrs. Bensusan, stiffening a little at the sound of a rival lodging-house keeper's name. "Then you are Mr.
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