‘That’s unfortunate,’ said Edward, going in. ‘But perhaps you remember a Mrs. Manston living next door to you?’
‘O yes,’ said the landlady, closing the door. ‘The lady who was supposed to have met with such a horrible fate, and was alive all the time. I saw her the other day.’
‘Since the fire at Carriford?’
‘Yes. Her husband came to ask if Mr. Brown was still living here—just as you might. He seemed anxious about it; and then one evening, a week or fortnight afterwards, when he came again to make further inquiries, she was with him. But I did not speak to her—she stood back, as if she were shy. I was interested, however, for old Mr. Brown had told me all about her when he came back from the inquest.’
‘Did you know Mrs. Manston before she called the other day?’
‘No. You see she was only Mr. Brown’s lodger for two or three weeks, and I didn’t know she was living there till she was near upon leaving again—we don’t notice next-door people much here in London. I much regretted I had not known her when I heard what had happened. It led me and Mr. Brown to talk about her a great deal afterwards. I little thought I should see her alive after all.’
‘And when do you say they came here together?’
‘I don’t exactly remember the day—though I remember a very beautiful dream I had that same night—ah, I shall never forget it! Shoals of lodgers coming along the square with angels’ wings and bright golden sovereigns in their hands wanting apartments at West End prices. They would not give any less; no, not if you—’
‘Yes. Did Mrs. Manston leave anything, such as papers, when she left these lodgings originally?’ said Edward, though his heart sank as he asked. He felt that he was outwitted. Manston and his wife had been there before him, clearing the ground of all traces.
‘I have always said “No” hitherto,’ replied the woman, ‘considering I could say no more if put upon my oath, as I expected to be. But speaking in a common everyday way now the occurrence is past, I believe a few things of some kind (though I doubt if they were papers) were left in a workbox she had, because she talked about it to Mr. Brown, and was rather angry at what occurred—you see, she had a temper by all account, and so I didn’t like to remind the lady of this workbox when she came the other day with her husband.’