"I shouldn't mind, sir. I'll show you the room if you'll be good enough to follow me." She preceded him up the narrow flight of stairs, and opened the door. It was a small room, but it was clean and tidy, and sufficiently furnished for Dick's requirements. "The rent?" asked Dick. "Would three-and-six a week be too much, sir?" she asked anxiously. "Not a bit," replied Dick, "if you'll give me a latchkey." "We can do that, sir. Pond had an extra one made on purpose. 'If it's a gentleman,' he said, 'let him have it. If it's a lady she can't have a latchkey, no, not if she begged for it on her bended knees.'" "I'll take the room, Mrs. Pond," said Dick, with a genial smile, "and I'll give you a week's rent in advance, if it's only for the confidence you place in me." Nervously plucking at her bib as she received the money, she displaced the handkerchief, which fluttered to the ground. Dick stooped to pick it up, and his face grew white as he saw, written in marking ink in a corner, the name of "Florence." He recognised Florence's writing; at that moment he had one at his breast, bearing the same inscription. CHAPTER XV. DICK COMES TO AN ARRANGEMENT WITH CONSTABLE POND. "Dear me, sir!" said Mrs. Pond, who had noticed that he had turned pale. "Are you taken ill?" "It is nothing, nothing," replied Dick, hurriedly, and contradicted himself by adding, "It must be the perfume on this handkerchief. There are perfumes that make me feel faint." "I don't think there's any scent on it, sir," said Mrs. Pond, "leastways, I didn't notice any. Some scents do have that effect upon people. There's a cousin of mine who faints dead away at the smell of a hot boiled egg. There's no accounting for things, is there, sir?" "No, there's not. May I ask if you got this handkerchief from the lady whose name is marked on it?" "Oh, no, sir. Pond gave it me." "Did _he_ obtain it from the lady?" "There!" exclaimed Mrs. Pond. "That's just what I said to him. We had a regular scene. 'You're jealous, Polly,' he said, laughing, and he worked me up so that I as good as threw it in the fire. Then he told me that he knew no more about the lady than I did, and that he picked it up in the street." "Whereabouts, Mrs. Pond?" "He didn't say, sir. It's pretty, ain't it? Quite a lady's. I shouldn't have minded if he'd picked up a dozen of 'em. I've got an aunt who is always picking up things. It commenced when she was a little girl. She found a farthing that had been sanded over, and thinking it was a golden sovereign she went into a milk-shop and asked for change. She cried her eyes out when they told her what it was, There's hardly a week she don't find something. Some people are made that way, sir." "Yes, yes," said Dick, rather impatiently, "is your husband in the house? I should like to see him."