"Were you coming in?" she asked.
"Well, not to-day," I answered. "I am on my way to Rowchester, and I am late already."
She kept by my side.
"Come in for a few moments," she begged, in a low tone. "I want to talk to you."
"Not the old subject, I hope," I remarked.
She looked around with an air of mystery.
"Do you know that some one is making inquiries about—that man?"
"I always thought it possible," I answered, "that his friends might turn up some time or other."
We were opposite the front of the Moyats' house. She opened the door and beckoned me to follow. I hesitated, but eventually did so. She led the way into the drawing-room, and carefully closed the door after us.
"Mr. Ducaine," she said, "I mean it, really. There is some one in the village making inquiries—about—the man who was found dead."