"I mean to find out--no matter what we hear from the landlady--if that
name is to be found in the parish register here, anyway," answered Mr.
Pawle. "You can be sure of this--Ashton came to this obscure country town
for some special purpose. What was it? And--had it anything to do with,
did it lead up to, his murder? That--"
A light tap at the door heralded the approach of Mrs. Summers.
"That," repeated Mr. Pawle, as he jumped up from his chair and politely
threw the door open, "is what I mean to endeavour--endeavour, at any
rate--to discover. Come in, ma'am," he continued, gallantly motioning the
old landlady to the easiest chair in the room. "We are very eager,
indeed, to hear what you can tell us. Our cigars, now--"
"Pray, don't mention them, sir," responded Mrs. Summers. "I hope you are
quite comfortable, and that you are having everything you wish?"
"Nothing ma'am, could be more pleasant and gratifying, as far as
material comfort goes," answered Mr. Pawle with conviction. "The dinner
was excellent; your wine is sound; this old room is a veritable haven! I
wish we were visiting you under less sad conditions.
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