"Divorce Court?" she said, puzzled, "are you giving evidence? Of course I know detectives do that sort of thing. I have read about it in the newspapers. It must be rather horrid, but you are such a clever detective—oh, by the way you never told me how you found me."
"It was a very simple matter," he said, relieved to change the subject, "van Heerden, by one of those curious lapses which the best of criminals make, left a message at the pawnbroker's which was written on the back of an account for pigeon food, sent to him from a Horsham tradesman. I knew he would not try to dispatch his message by the ordinary courses and I suspected all along that he had established a pigeon-post. The bill gave me all the information I wanted. It took us a long time to find the tradesman, but once we had discovered him he directed us to the farm. We took along a couple of local policemen and arrested Bridgers in the garage."
She shivered.
"It was horrible, wasn't it?" she said.
He nodded.
"It was rather dreadful, but it might have been very much worse," he added philosophically.
"But how wonderful of you to switch yourself from the crime of that enthralling character to a commonplace divorce suit."
"This isn't commonplace," he said, "it is rather a curious story."
"Do tell me." She made a place for him on the window-ledge and he sat down beside her.