"That's not for us to say," said Constable Nightingale. "Perhaps Mr. Felix let him in when you was away."
"Yes, most likely," said Mrs. Middlemore, with an air of confusion which she strove vainly to conceal from the observation of her visitors; "of course, that must be. Mr. Felix often lets people in 'isself. 'Mrs. Middlemore,' he ses sometimes, 'if there's a ring or a knock at the door, I'll attend to it. You needn't trouble yourself.' And I don't--knowing 'im, and knowing it'll pay me better to foller 'is instructions. For there's never a time that sech a thing 'appens that Mr. Felix doesn't say to me afterward, 'Here's a half-sovering for you, Mrs. Middlemore.'"
"You're in for one to-morrow morning, then," observed Constable Wigg, "because it was a man we saw and not a woman."
"He won't forgit it," said Mrs. Middlemore, "not 'im. He's too free and generous with 'is money, so long as he's let alone, and not pry'd upon. What he does is no business of mine, and I'm not going to make it mine."
"Ah," Mrs. Middlemore, said Constable Wigg, emptying his second glass of whiskey, "you know which side your bread is buttered."
"I wasn't born yesterday," said Mrs. Middlemore, with a shrewd smile, "and I've seed things that I keep to myself. Why not? You'd do the same if you was in my shoes, wouldn't you?"
"That we would," replied both the policeman in one breath; and Constable Wigg added, "You're a lucky woman to have such a lodger."
"Well," said Mrs. Middlemore, "I don't deny it. I never met with such a man as Mr. Felix, and I don't believe there is another. Why, when he took possession, he ses, 'Clear out every bit of furniture there is in the rooms. Send it to auction if you like and sell it, and pocket the money. When I leave you shall either 'ave all my furniture, or I'll furnish the rooms over agin according to your fancy, and it shan't cost you a penny.' I was agreeable. Because why? Because he give me forty pound on account, to show that he was in earnest. Then he begins to furnish, and if you was to see 'is rooms, Mr. Wigg, you'd be that took aback that you wouldn't know what to say. All sorts of wonderful woods, satings, picters, swords and daggers, strange rugs and carpets, painted plates and dishes, 'angings, old lamps, and goodness only knows what I don't understand 'arf of 'em. There! I've talked enough about Mr. Felix for once. Let's talk of something else."
"Do you keep cats, Mrs. Middlemore?" asked Constable Nightingale, brewing another grog for himself and Constable Wigg.
"I don't," replied Mrs. Middlemore. "Mr. Felix won't 'ave one in the 'ouse."