s-l-e-u-t-h

Updated: May 16, 2025

And then there came a pause. "My name is Sleuth," he said suddenly, "S-l-e-u-t-h. Think of a hound, Mrs. Bunting, and you'll never forget my name. I am quite willing to pay you well, shall we say a month in advance?" A spot of red shot into Mrs. Bunting's cheeks. She felt sick with relief nay, with a joy which was almost pain.

Marie Belloc Lowndes - The Lodger