"The woman says, sir, she was always writing, writing all day."
"How was she fed?" I asked anxiously. "I suppose no tradesmen called?"
"No, sir," the sergeant's wife replied, "the woman I am speaking of, who lives in the country, used to come three times a week and clean up for her, and each time she would bring her a supply of simple food, eggs and milk and such-like, to last her till she came again."
I put my hand in my pocket and gave her half a crown.
"I suppose you don't mind my looking round the house," I suggested. "I should like to see it once more before I leave Bath."
"Well," she said hesitatingly, "I'm afraid it's against orders, but——"
The woman who hesitates is lost; she let me in.
I went with her straight down to the sitting-room. It was locked, but she had the key for cleaning purposes, and let me in.
"It looks very dreary now, don't it, sir," she queried, "in spite of all the china and finery and that?"
Yes, she was right, the room by daylight looked very dismal; the broken looking-glass over the mantelpiece did not improve its appearance.