Under a verandah in front of this warehouse were a number of trunks, a few of which bore on their lids the names or initials, newly painted in white, of the customers for whom they had been made. Two bore the same name, Signor Corsi, and it was these which had the greatest attraction for Dr. Vinsen. They were of large size and special make, far superior to the ordinary travelling trunk. Entering the warehouse, he came out presently accompanied by a man, either the proprietor or one of his salesmen, who opened one of the trunks and pointed out its exceptional features. It was of peculiar construction; the interior was padded, and there were receptacles lined with soft material, in which articles could be deposited with little fear of breakage. The interest which Dr. Vinsen took in the trunks and the long conversation between him and the salesman, whetted Gracie's curiosity, and she burned to know the why and the wherefore; but being compelled to keep at a safe distance, she could not hear a word that was spoken. Finally, Dr. Vinsen entered the warehouse again, and did not make his reappearance for twelve minutes by a clock in the shop near which she was lingering. He and the salesman stood chattering at the door for another minute or two, and it seemed to Gracie as if he had given an order, for he made an entry in his pocketbook; then he turned his face Kennington way and hailed a tramcar. Gracie scrambled up to the roof, where she opened her paper and read the report of the inquest up to the time of going to press. Folding the paper carefully, she put it in the bosom of her frock. Dr. Vinsen did not leave the tram till it had reached its terminus. This part of London was new to Gracie, and they were now some miles from Draper's Mews. "If he lives here," she thought, "it's a long way for him to come to us." That he did live there was proved by his stopping before a house of decent pretensions and opening the door with his own private latchkey. There was a little brass plate attached to the side of the door, and creeping past it Gracie read on it the name, "Ezra Lynn," and beneath it in smaller letters the announcement, "Sums of from £5 to £15,000 advanced at a low rate of interest on promissory note alone, without any sureties or security whatever, and without any beforehand charges. The strictest privacy and secrecy observed." Gracie's eyes dilated at the magnitude of the sum, £15,000, and for a moment her idea was that Dr. Vinsen had gone into the house to borrow that amount; the next moment she fell to speculating upon the strange circumstance that Dr. Vinsen should possess a private latchkey to such an Aladdin's Cave. "I wonder!" she said to herself. It was sufficiently expressive for her understanding, but it went no farther in speech.