"Well, sir, I don't know that I can give you much of a description of her. She was very small, had a sort of nut-cracker face, a little black poke bonnet, and walked with a stick."
"Should you know her again if you saw her?"
"Oh yes, sir."
"Did she say anything when she gave you the letter?"
"Only, 'For Mr. Wetherell, young man.' That was all, sir."
"And you didn't ask if there was an answer? That was rather a singular omission on your part, was it not?"
"She didn't give me time, sir. She just put it into my hand and went down the steps again."
"That will do. Now, Mr. Wetherell, I think we'd better see about getting that money from the bank. You need not wait, my man."
The footman thereupon left the room, while both Mr. Wetherell and I stared at the Inspector in complete astonishment. He laughed.
"You are wondering why I said that," he remarked.