"In a taxi."
"And what did she do on Sunday?"
"Had out the punt and went up to Boulter's, where she would be certain to meet a lot of friends. I dare say you know the mistress is a famous dancer. That kind of people are a bit unconventional."
"Do you happen to know the Honorable Percival Marsh?" asked Quarles.
"Yes. He's been here, but not lately. The mistress lunches with him in town sometimes. She seems to think more of him than I do. There's nothing in it. I've heard her laugh at him with the master."
"Is that the only dog about the place?" said Quarles.
"Yes. He's a pet; usually goes up to the opera with the mistress. He went on Saturday, and came back like that on Sunday. He snapped at her in a frightened way when she came in here in the morning and got a hiding for it. I was afraid he'd go for her."
Quarles gave a short exclamation underneath his breath, and then he said in rather an agitated way: "Well go in and see Mrs. Seligmann, Wigan." And as we left the yard he went on: "You must make the servant show us in to her mistress without announcing us. We must take Mrs. Seligmann unawares."
The servant proved difficult to persuade, and I had to explain who I was before she yielded. Mrs. Seligmann sprang from the sofa as we entered. She looked wild, almost mad, as the chauffeur had said, but she recognized us and forced herself to welcome us.
"What are you here for?" she said, and I started. There was the suggestion of a snarl in her voice.