"Don't ring, Grace. Pray don't go, Mr. Faunce, unless you are in a desperate hurry."
"I am in no hurry, madam."
"Then pray sit down again, and let us have a little talk with you—now that we have done with Lady Perivale's business. Do you know that, ever since I read the 'Moonstone'—and I was little more than a child when I read that most enthralling book—I have been longing to meet a detective—a real detective?"
"I feel honoured, madam, for my profession. People are apt to think unkindly of our trade, though they can't do without us."
He was still standing with his hat in his hand, waiting for some sign from Lady Perivale.
"The world is full of injustice," she said. "Pray sit down, Mr. Faunce, and gratify my friend's curiosity about the mysteries of your art."
"I am flattered, madam, to find a lady interested in such dry work."
"Dry!" cried Susan; "why, it is the quintessence of fiction and the drama. And now, Mr. Faunce, tell me, to begin with, how you ever contrive to track people down when once they have got a fair start?"
"Well, you see, as we don't do it by following them about, the start doesn't much matter, provided we can pick up a trace of them somewhere."
"Ah, but that's where the wonder is! How do you pick up the first trace?"