“Suddenly we swung round a corner with such a bump that it roused me, and I sat up and took notice. We were driving through a nice wide street, with trees on each side, and good-sized houses set back in little gardens, all separate from each other. Each garden had two gates, and just room for a carriage to drive in and out. There wasn’t a light to be seen in one of them, and I thought how early the people in those parts went to bye-bye. And then I caught sight of an open doorway, with the light shining from it out into the small yard or garden in front, and a street lamp standing exactly in front of it; so that between the two the place was well lit up. There was a carriage just driving out through the gate, and there were no shrubs or bushes in the garden, nothing but a little yard it was, I think, so I could see the two ladies standing in front of the door as plain as the nose on your face.
“I turned round when we’d passed and stared back at them, for the street wasn’t crowded with people in gorgeous opera cloaks and blazing with diamonds, like one of these two was. I suppose it was Mrs. Vanderstein. She was standing a little to one side, as if she’d taken a step or two after the carriage, and was looking after it still. She had on a white dress, all sparkling, and a mauve or pink cloak thrown open and back on her shoulders, so I could see the jewels flashing and shining away all over her as right as rain, just like it says in the papers. There was a tiara on the top of her head as big as, as—” Seraphina gazed round searchingly for a simile—“as big as that chandelier. Oh, it can’t have been anyone else! And besides, there was the other young lady; I didn’t look at her so much, but I can swear she had a red cloak on. There now! As soon as I read about them I remembered what I’d seen on Monday night, and I said to my friend: ‘My dear, I’m going out to keep an appointment with my photographer. Ta-ta.’ I wasn’t going to let on to her, of course. She’s a bit of a cat, as a matter of fact.”
Miss Finner stopped, fixing on Gimblet a gaze full of modest pride. But Gimblet sat, to all appearance, lost in thought. Though his eye met hers, it was with an abstracted look, and this in spite of the fact that Miss Finner’s eyes were blue and darkly fringed. He could not fail to observe her curls of gold, the pink transparency of her cheek, the broad green and white stripes of her silken gown. He could not fail to hear, whenever she moved, the jingling of bracelets, of the many charms that were suspended from the chain around her white throat, and the merry peal of her laugh; but all this seemed to be escaping his attention, and Miss Finner could detect nowhere the glances of admiration, which she considered the least that was due to her.
Instead, he had nothing but prosaic questions for her.
“What time do you say this was?”
“After the theatre. Nearly midnight. I was late getting away.”
“You don’t know the name of the street? Could you find your way to it again?”
“Afraid not, it’s not the way one generally goes. I’ve no idea where it was, beyond what I’ve told you.”
“And the house? Did you notice nothing about it to distinguish it from its neighbours?”