nd in
any case she could not have refused him the sight of his own mother's
body.

She could not have restrained that dog had he acted on his obvious
impulse to strangle, rapidly and thoroughly, this vermin intruder. But
he was an orderly and law-abiding dog, who would not have strangled a
rat without permission.

Gwen did not catch the convict's exclamation at sight of his mother,
beyond the "What the...!" that began it. Then he was silent. She saw him
go nearer without fear of ill-demeanour on his part, and touch the cold
white hand, not roughly or without a sort of respect. As well, perhaps,
for him; for Gwen was quite capable of loosing that dog on him, under
sufficient provocation. She thought he seemed to examine the fingers of
the left hand. Then he came back, and they returned to the front-room.
She was the first to speak.

"Are you satisfied?"

"I couldn't have sworn to her myself, not from her face, but I made
sure." Probably he had looked for the cut finger, his own handiwork of
thirty-odd years ago. He said abruptly, after a moment's pause:--"I
don't see nothing to gain by hanging about here."

"Nothing whatever."

He said not a word more, his only sign of emotion or excitement having
been his exclamation at first sight of the corpse. He walked away
towards the village, and had just reached the point where the road turns
out of sight, when Gwen, watching his slow one-sided footsteps, saw him
turn and come quickly back. She went back into the Cottage and closed
the door, resolved not to admit him a second time.

But he passed by, going away by the road towards Denby's and the Towers,
never even glancing at the Cottage. He was scarcely out of sight when a
tax-cart with two men in it came quickly from the village and stopped.

"You will excuse me, madam. I am Police-Inspector Thompson, from
Grantley Thorpe. A man whom I am looking for has been traced here...."
The speaker had alighted.

"A man with a limp? He came here and went away. He has only just gone."

"Which way?"

"He went away in that direction...."

"What I said!" struck in the second man on the driver's seat. "He's for
getting back to the Railway. He'll cut across by Moreton Spinney. Jump
up, Joe!"

Gwen could easily have added that he had come back, and was going the
other way. But her promise to old Mrs. Picture, lying there dead, kept
her silent. If the officers chose to jump to a false conclusion, let
them! She had misled them b