"Who is Rhoda?"
"The servant. She's as sharp as a needle, but an idle slut, for all that, Mr. Denzil. They say she's a gypsy of some kind."
"Is the gate of this passage locked at night?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then what is to prevent any one coming in under cover of darkness and climbing the fence? He would escape then being seen by the landlady and her servant."
"I daresay; but he'd be seen climbing over the fence from the back windows of the houses on each side of No. 13."
"Not if he chose a dark night for the climbing."
"Well, even if he did, how could he get into No. 13?" argued Miss Greeb. "You know I've read the report of the case, Mr. Denzil, and it couldn't be found out (as the kitchen door was locked, and no stranger entered the square) how the murdering assassin got in."
"I may discover even that," replied Lucian, not choosing to tell Miss Greeb that he had already discovered the entrance. "With time and inquiry and observation we can do much. Thank you, Miss Greeb," he continued, slipping the drawing of the plan into his breast coat pocket. "I am much obliged for your information. Of course you'll repeat our conversation to no one?"
"I swear to breathe no word," said Miss Greeb dramatically, and left the room greatly pleased with this secret understanding, which had quite the air of an innocent intrigue such as was detailed in journals designed for the use of the family circle.