The little shop kept by the Hills was empty when Rolfe entered it, but Mrs. Hill appeared from the inner room in answer to his knock. The faded little woman did not recognise the police officer at first, but when he spoke she looked into his face with a start. She timidly said, in reply to his inquiry for her husband, that he had just "stepped out" down the street.
"Then you had better send your little girl after him," said Rolfe, seating himself on the one rickety chair on the outside of the counter. "I want to see him."
Mrs. Hill seemed at a loss to reply for a moment. Then she answered, nervously plucking at her apron the while: "I don't think it'd be much use doing that, sir. You see, Mr. Hill doesn't always tell me where he's going and I don't really know where he is."
"Then why did you tell me that he had just stepped out down the street?" asked Rolfe sharply.
"Because I thought he mightn't be far away."
"Then, as a matter of fact, you don't know where he is or when he'll be back?"
"No, sir."
Her prompt and uncompromising reply indicated that she did not want him to wait for her husband.
"I think I'll wait," said Rolfe, looking at her steadily.
"Yes, sir."