"Yes." The old man stared. "What of that?"
"It seems to me----" said Derrick; then he paused, and shook his head. "Let us examine the rest of the house."
Webb, not knowing what was passing in the officer's mind, stared again and hobbled round as cicerone. They went to the small kitchen, to the one bedroom, to the tiny dining-room, and examined the small conservatory opening out of this last. At the back of the house there was a small garden filled with gaudy sunflowers and tall hollyhocks. The red brick walls which enclosed the plot of ground scarcely larger than a handkerchief were draped with ivy, carefully trimmed and tended. The conservatory was filled with cheap flowers neatly ranged. Apparently Mrs. Brand, judging by the conservatory and the back and front gardens, was fond of flowers, and made it the pleasure of her life to tend them.
The kitchen and the dining-room were plainly furnished. In the meat-safe outside the back door were the chops and steaks left by the butcher's boy, and also loaves of bread. A milk-can was on the ground and empty, showing that probably all the cats in the place had been enjoying themselves. Derrick found that a narrow passage between the enclosing wall and the house led from the front garden to the back. Having assured himself of this, he re-entered the house, and examined the bedroom.
This was better furnished than the rest of the house. There was a smart dressing-table decked with muslin and pink ribbons. On it were articles of female toilette. Several dresses (plain for the most part) were hanging up in the wardrobe, and there was a warm but untrimmed dressing-gown in the bathroom. But Derrick could not see any male apparel, and pointed this out to Webb.
"Perhaps Mr. Brand wasn't her husband after all," said the old man. "He may have been a friend of hers, and came here occasionally. But he didn't live here."
"The boy said he did sometimes."
"The boy's a liar," said Webb vindictively.
"Hum! I don't know that. I have an idea."
"Of what?"