“No outrage is intended, madam,” said Mr. Dainty, coming forward. “We are in search of a woman named Fordham, who is, as we are informed, in your house.”
“She is not here,” was the firm answer.
“Where can we find her?” he asked, in a disappointed voice.
“I know not. She comes and goes as the wind; and no questions are asked as to her coming or going.”
“Step into this room,” said the officer, motioning to one of the parlor-doors. Mrs. Weir obeyed, and Mr. Dainty and Florence went in with her. Quick glances were thrown around the apartments, but they had no other inmates.
“Remain here,” said the officer. “I will search the house. You stand by the door, sir, and do not permit any one to pass to the street.”
Mrs. Weir made various signs of rebellion; but the officer warned her to be quiet, or he would have her taken to the police-station. This threat really frightened her, and she sunk down, almost nerveless, upon a chair.
“Be quick,” said Mr. Dainty, speaking to the officer. “The woman is tall, with a thin, sallow, evil face, and dark, wicked eyes. You can make no mistake.”
The officer left the room. It was nearly ten minutes before he came back.
“She is not in the house,” he said, “and I fear has escaped, as I find an outlet in the rear, leading through a court, into another street.”