“There are none of the other servants here, I suppose?”
“No—none. Why?”
“Because I’m anxious to find out whether Mrs Stentiford has ever let her house furnished.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What gives you that impression?”
“Because before she went away she told me that she preferred to close the place and pay me, rather than to let her things be ruined by strangers.”
“And I suppose you’ve heard from neighbours about the house?”
“Yes,” he replied; “I’ve heard that a gentleman lived here about four years ago—I think the name was Ashwicke.”
“But he was living here a few weeks ago,” I declared; “I visited him here.”
The retired police-sergeant looked at me incredibly.