“Have you been recently married?”
“We have been married four years,” the girl informed him, with dignity.
Stewart started to give some additional information about the family, but restrained himself.
The inspector looked at them both keenly for a moment, scratching his bearded chin reflectively. Then he took a rapid turn up and down the shed, his brow furrowed in thought.
“I shall have to ask you both to disrobe,” he said, at last, and as Stewart started to his feet in hot protest, he added, quickly, “I have a woman who will disrobe Madame.”
“But this is an outrage!” protested Stewart, his face crimson. “This lady is my wife—I won’t stand by and see her insulted. I warn you that you are making a serious mistake.”
“She shall not be insulted. Besides, it is necessary.”
“I don’t see it.”
“That is for me to decide,” said the other bluntly, and he put his whistle to his lips and blew two blasts.
A door at the farther end of the shed opened and a woman entered. She was a matronly creature with a kind face, and she smiled encouragingly at the shrinking girl.