T. B. tried the handle, and the door opened readily.
"This at any rate is open," he said, and entered the dark passageway.
"A mistake on the part of the butler," said the puzzled Mr. Farrington. "I have given the strictest orders that all these doors should be fastened. You will find the area door bolted and chained."
T. B. threw the rays of his electric torch over the door.
"It doesn't seem to be," he remarked; "in fact, the door is ajar."
Farrington gasped.
"Ajar?" he repeated. T. B. stepped out into the well of the tiny courtyard. It was approached from the street by a flight of stone stairs.
T. B. threw the circle of his lamp over the flagged yard. He saw something glittering and stooped to pick it up. The object was a tiny gold-capped bottle such as forms part of the paraphernalia in a woman's handbag.
He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.