"No, sir."
"Very well—Mrs. Hannah Summers, landlady at the Ellingham Arms, Marketstoke, in Buckinghamshire. Now then—but what's your name, my dear?"
"Lucy Summers, sir."
"Very pretty name, I'm sure! Well, and what's the message your grandmother sent me? I want this gentleman to hear it."
"Grandmother wished me to say, sir, that we read the piece in the paper this morning asking if anybody could give you any news about a Mr. John Ashton, and that as we had a gentleman of that name staying with us for three or four days some weeks since, she sent me to tell you, and to say that if you would send somebody down to see her, she could give some information about him."
"Very clearly put, my dear—much obliged to you," said Mr. Pawle. "Now, I suppose you were at the Ellingham Arms when this Mr. Ashton came there?"
"Oh, yes, sir; I live there!"
"To be sure! Now, what sort of man was he—in appearance?"
"A tall, big gentleman, sir, with a beard, going a little grey. He was wearing a blue serge suit."
Mr. Pawle nodded at Viner.