"I do--Primrose Crescent, Bloomsbury. You go there and find out what you can."
"I may as well try," said Norwood thoughtfully, "but I'm afraid it's a forlorn hope."
"Forlorn hopes generally succeed," replied May with a confident smile. "So you go to his lodgings, and then let me know the result of your inquiries."
Norwood agreed to this, and after Miss Penfold had departed called a cab and drove to the address of Myles Desmond. Rondalina, more wan and ghost-like than ever, opened the door and informed the lawyer that Mrs. Mulgy had gone out.
"That's a pity," said Norwood, in a disappointed tone. "Are you the servant?"
"Yes sir," replied Rondalina, dropping a curtsey.
"And you attend to all the lodgers?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh! then perhaps you can tell me what I want to know," said Norwood cheerfully. "Take me up to Mr. Desmond's room."
Rondalina, being a London girl, was very sharp, and looked keenly at Mr. Norwood to see if he had any design of burglary. The scrutiny proving satisfactory, she led him upstairs, and showed him Desmond's sitting-room.