The pretty Irish girl reflected.
"Yes, sir," with a small courtesy; "and indade I believe there was wan."
"You believe. Are you quite certain?"
"Yes, sir, I am quite certain. It were the poor English lady whose room was opposite this one—number 20, sir."
She half-opened the door and indicated number 20 with her finger.
"Just across the hall."
"The poor English lady; and why do you call her poor?" asked the detective, curiously, while the two gentlemen listened in silence, and the girl herself edged nearer the door in surprise and bewilderment commingled. "Was she in bad circumstances?"
"Why, no, sir, not that way; she seemed quite comfortable so far as money went. It were her mind, sir," said the girl, tapping her forehead significantly. "She seemed not quite right here, sir."
"And what sort of a lady was she, and what was her name?"