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Updated: June 20, 2025
Furneaux clicked his tongue so loudly that Forbes stopped speaking and looked at him, thinking, apparently, that the little detective meant to say something. He did, but it was Theydon whom he addressed. "I'd give a week's pay if Winter was here now, and I could see those big eyes of his bulging out of his head," he cackled. Theydon nodded. He understood perfectly.
Vaguely aware that he had committed himself to a definite knowledge as to the sex of Mrs. Lester's visitor, Theydon added: "I didn't actually see any one on the stairs, but I heard an arrival, and jumped to the same conclusion as you, Bates." Tacitly, master and man shared the same opinion it was satisfactory to know that Mrs.
She was pale, and yielding to reaction after the excitement of the fracas. Unwillingly, since he was certain now that there was absolutely no ground for the girl's alarm on her mother's account at any rate, so far as illness was concerned Theydon entered the cab, and Winter followed.
The long jaunt I had from Chigwell Lane Station through the pretty but unpopulous country west of Theydon Bois, uneventful as it was, made an ineffaceable mark on my memory.
You can best assist us by stopping within call. Mrs. Forbes and the American should arrive first, possibly before 7:30. If there is any hitch, which is unlikely, Mr. Handyside will telephone you. Your daughter will tell you the hour she and Mr. Theydon should reach Victoria. She will speak to you now. Excuse my abruptness.
Society was looking to Forbes for a promised panacea against war and its evils; Forbes himself was wondering whether bolts and locks and armed servants and policemen would protect him and his from the claws of the Young Manchus! Theydon heard Bates locking and bolting the outer door of the flat with a certain thankfulness.
Theydon was genuinely sorry for this gray-haired woman's plight, and she evidently regarded him as a kind-hearted and eminently trustworthy young man. He stood and watched the cab as it bore her off swiftly into the maelstrom of London. He could not help thinking that seldom had he met one less fitted for the notoriety thrust upon all connected with a much-talked-of crime.
Leaning out, when about to cross Oxford Street into Tottenham Court Road, he said to his driver: "Turn sharp to the right in Store Street, and pull up. I'll tell you when to go on again." The man obeyed. Theydon posted himself at the outer window, and in a space of time so short that the excellence of the gray car's accelerator was amply demonstrated, the pursuer swung into sight.
It's too awful! How was she killed?" "She was strangled." "O, this is dreadful! Shall I wire an apology to the man I'm dining with?" "No need for that, Mr. Theydon," said Winter, sympathetically. "I'm sorry now we blurted out our unpleasant news. But you had to be told, and it was essential that we should get your story some time tonight. Can you be home by eleven?" "Yes, yes.
Being thus occupied, he did not glance at the passing cab, or recognition might possibly have been mutual possibly, though not probably, because, during that brief pause on the steps of the theater, he stood beside Theydon; hence, he was half-turned toward his daughter while they were discussing the night's immediate program.
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