"To me it is the gloomiest place in the world," said Charlton.
"That I can easily understand. But you are still of the same opinion--you still value the good name of your dead wife?"
"I would give all I possess in the world to clear it, Lawrence."
"It shall be done; I pledge you my word that it shall be done. I have the key to this mystery--I have had it from the first. That is why I persuaded you not to go away again, and not to let anybody know you were in London. But we have by no means done with the corner house yet. We are going to spend an hour or so there this very night."
Charlton looked up in quick surprise.
"You and I are going there secretly?" he asked. "Do you mean now?"
"As soon as I have finished this cigarette," Lawrence said, coolly. "We may be too late to see the beginning of the play, but I have faith in my assistant. Now, come along. You have brought your latchkey as I asked you?"
Charlton nodded. He was a man of few words. He said nothing when Lawrence gave him a pair of goloshes to put over his boots, and in silence the two set out for Raven Street. The place was practically deserted as they came to the house, so that to enter without being seen was a matter of no difficulty.
"We are in time," Lawrence whispered, "in good time. I felt sure I could trust the one I picked out to assist me. If I had not been detained I should have been here before. There is not much for us to do."
"Are we waiting for somebody?" Charlton asked.