The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ‘I’ll make it, miss. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. ” “And I,” Courtlaw said, “although I have asked before in vain, have come to ask you once more the same thing.
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