As he sat with the old woman he spoke to her with difficulty, moving his lips slowly.
"Yes," replied the old woman in her high-pitched voice, for all the deaf speak loudly. "It is all very curious—most curious! They've never found out how it caught fire."
From Bridge Place Gerald walked direct to the Hammersmith police-station and, demanding to see someone in authority, was ushered upstairs to that same room into which Marigold had been shown, and there sat the same detective-inspector, rosy-faced, quiet and affable.
He listened to the roughly-clad young man's story, until presently he said:
"Oh, you are Gerald Durrant, are you?"
"Yes," was his visitor's astonished reply. "Why?"
"Well, we had a young lady inquiring about you a little while ago. She said you were missing, and asked us to make inquiry. But as you had wired to her several times we considered that you had gone off on your own account."
"Was Marigold here?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes, she came one night and told us of your disappearance. Where have you been?"
"Abroad. I only returned to-day."