bed--but see it she must!

The great bulldog, the only creature moving, came shambling along the
passage to greet her, and--so she rendered his subdued dog-sounds that
came short of speech--concerned that something was amiss he was excluded
from knowing. She said a word to comfort him, but kept him outside the
room, to wait for her return.

What had been till so lately old Mrs. Picture, whom she had chanced upon
in Sapps Court, and found so strange a truth about, lay under that
face-cloth on the bed. She moved the window-curtain for a stronger
light, and uncovered the marble stillness of the face. The kerchief tied
beneath the chin ran counter to her preconceptions, but no doubt it was
all right. Ruth would know.

She did not look long. An odd sense of something that was not sacrilege,
but akin to it, associated itself with this gazing on the empty
tenement. Even so one shrinks from the emptiness of what was his home
once, and will never know another dweller, but be carted off to the
nearest dry-rubbish shoot. She laid the sheet back in its place, and
went into the front-room.

Suddenly the dog growled and barked, then went smelling along the door
into the front-garden. There was someone outside. She was conscious of a
man on the gravel, through the window. A stranger, or he would enter
without leave, or at least find the bell to ring. She glanced at the
clock. It was half-past eight already, though it had seemed so early.

How about the dog, if she opened the door? His repute was great for
ferocity towards doubtful characters, but he was credited with
discrimination. Was this invariable? She preferred to take down his
chain from its hook by the window, and to use it to hold him by.

"What is it? Who are you?" She had opened the door without reserve,
feeling sure that the dog would be excited by a gap. As it was he
growled intolerantly, and had to be reproved.

"You'll excuse me--I was inquiring.... Is your dog safe? I ain't fond of
dogs, and they ain't fond of me." He was a man with a side-lurch, and an
ungracious manner.

"The dog is safe--unless I let him go." Gwen was not sorry to have a
strong ally in a leash, at will. "You were inquiring--you said?"

"Concerning of an old lady by the name of Prichard. The address given
was Strides Cottage, and I see this little domicile here goes by that
name. Next we come to the old lady of the name of Prichard. Can you do
her, or anything near about?"

"Yes--Mrs. Pri