"Mr. Paulton, I'm sorry. What is the matter? I have just come back from another unexpected patient.
"It's no one at our place, thank goodness! It's some one at Crescent House. I don't even know the name."
By this time both men were walking rapidly towards Half Moon Lane.
Dr. Santley was a tall, slender man, with full black beard and moustaches. He had a quiet, gentle, responsible manner, and rarely smiled. As the two strode on together, Alfred Paulton described the scene in which he had just taken part. When he had finished, his companion said:
"Ah, I saw the vans at the door to-day; but surely they cannot have got a big house like that straight in so short a time. Here we are."
They had arrived at the spot where a few minutes before the younger man had stood and spoken to the strange woman in the doorway. The door was now not open.
Paulton rattled noisily at the gate, and then waited a while. There was no answer. He looked at the windows of the house; none was lighted up. Light shone in the fan-sash over the door.
"You cannot have mistaken the house in the dark?" asked Dr. Santley, suppressing a yawn.
"Impossible! It was the only house to be let. It is Crescent House, and you yourself saw the furniture going in to-day."
Again he rattled the gate, this time as loudly as he could.