"Well, I shouldn't like to say it to every one, Alan, but Mrs. Warrender had been an actress."
"An actress! Under what name?"
"That I cannot tell you. I called there one day and I heard her reciting Shakespeare. Her elocution seemed to me so fine that I complimented her upon it. Then she told me that she had been on the stage, and had retired when she married Warrender."
"That's very strange! I always thought she had somewhat of a professional manner about her."
"And her hair, Alan! Flava coma--yellow hair; not that I mean, for one moment, she was what the Romans referred to by these words. Well, my boy, what is to be done now?"
"I am going up to London in an hour's time."
Alan glanced at his watch while speaking.
"But you'll miss seeing Blair, the inspector," remonstrated Mr. Phelps.
"I'll see him when I return: you can explain the case as well as I, sir. I shall bring Gramp back with me if I can manage it."
"And Mrs. Warrender--shall I tell Blair about her?"