"Not that I know of. If he's working in a restaurant, the Chief may decide to pick him up in the morning. Anyway, I'll be seeing you. So long!" He replaced the receiver, and said with satisfaction: "Well, now we are getting on, and no mistake!" He found that Glass was still waiting, open notebook in hand, and his eyes fixed on his face, and said: "Oh yes, you! What was I saying?"
"You were about to ask me whether the man Smart recognised the woman he saw. And I answer you, No. He rode upon the other side of the road, and saw but the figure of a female, her robe caught up in one hand, the other smoothing her hair, which the breeze ruffled."
"Oh well, there doesn't seem to be much doubt it was Mrs. North, anyway!" said the Sergeant. He collected his papers together and got up. The Constable was apparently still brooding over the experience through which he had passed, for he said with a shudder: "The lamp of the wicked shall be put out: but the tabernacle of the righteous shall flourish."
"I daresay," agreed the Sergeant, bestowing his papers in his case. "But if the picture you saw was wicked enough to set you off like this, all I can say is I wish I'd seen it. I've never struck a really hot one in my life - not what I call hot, that is."
"How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee?" demanded Glass. "I tell you, when the wicked perish there is shouting!"
"You go off home, and treat yourself to a nice aspirin," recommended the Sergeant. "I've had enough of you for one day."
"I will go," Glass replied, restoring his notebook to his pocket. "I am tossed up and down as the locust."
The Sergeant deigned no reply, but walked out of the office. Later, when he met Superintendent Hannasyde in his room at Scotland Yard, he said: "You've properly put your foot into it now, Chief. Turned poor old Glass into a locust, that's what you've done. You never heard such a commotion in your life!"
"What on earth - ?"
"Led his feet into a horrible pit," said the Sergeant with unction. "I've sent him off duty to get over it."