She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. You are utterly baffling. Compared to most of America, you’re rich. ” “How old-fashioned of you, Lucy. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. “Why?” “I still love you. ” “The inference is, then,” the detective said smoothly, “that this man obtained admission to your rooms by means of a false key, that he burnt some papers here and shot himself within a few moments of your return. " The head turnkey, in all probability, would have obeyed.
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