“I went up to see her at the office of the paper itself by her own appointment, and was so struck by her manner and appearance that I settled with her then and there. She was to come down two days later. To the best of my memory, I never inquired about her people.”
“But she must have spoken of them—received letters?”
“She never spoke of them to my knowledge, or that of her fellow servants, to whom I have put the question. As to letters, Annie certainly did receive one now and again—one or two quite recently; but I have been looking, and can find no trace of any. It would have been just like her funny sensitive ways to destroy every one of them.”
The detective was silent for a moment, his dark scrutinizing eyes fixed on the speaker’s face, as if he were pondering some significance, to him, in the answer.
“What became of the written character?” he asked presently.
“I returned it to her, sir. It is customary to do so.”
“In case she should want to use it again? That being so, I should have thought she would have kept it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you have not come across it?”
“It may be in her boxes. I have not looked.”