“No strangers about Starden?”
“No!”
Had Slotman been? That was what Hugh wanted to know. Presently he asked the question direct.
“You don’t happen to have seen that man I described to you some time back, a stout man with a lean face, overdressed, thick red lips, small eyes?”
“Law bless us! yes. I see him two days ago, drove past he did in a car—a shabby-looking car it was, but he didn’t stop. He just stared at the cottage as he drove past, and I got an idea he smiled, only I ain’t sure. I am sure of one thing, however; he did stare terribul hard at this cottage!”
“You are sure it is the man?”
Mrs. Bonner described Mr. Slotman’s appearance vividly, and Mr. Slotman, had he been there, might not have been pleased to hear of the impression he had made on the good woman.
“A man,” she concluded, “as I wouldn’t trust, not a hinch!”
“It’s the man!” Hugh thought. “And he’s come back, as I thought he would. Funny he should look at the cottage! Good Lord! I wonder if he has spies about here?”
“Anyone else been? I suppose no one came here to ask about me, for instance, Mrs. Bonner?”