"'I have come to the conclusion that the only thing for you to do is to return at once to the Rosemere,' he said at last. This suggestion at once dispelled the numbness which had come over me, and the painful fluttering of my heart convinced me that the power of suffering had, alas, not left me. I first thought that he intended me to go back alone, but that I knew I could _not_ do. He soon reassured me on that point, however, and promised that as long as I needed him, or wanted him, he would never desert me. He seemed to understand intuitively how I shrank from returning to the scene of the tragedy, and I felt sure he would not urge me to do so if he did not think it absolutely necessary. He pointed out that the body must be removed from our apartment as soon as possible. Where to put it was the question. We thought of various places, none of which seemed practicable, till I remembered the vacant suite on our landing. As soon as I told him of it, and that at present painters and paper-hangers were working there, he decided that we could never find a more convenient spot, or one where the discovery of the dead man was so little likely to compromise any one. How Mr. Norman was to get into our apartment was the next question. For obvious reasons he could not do so openly. At last, he hit on the idea of disguising himself as a tradesman. He suggested that we should both enter the building at the same time, I by the front, and he by the back door. I was then to let him in through the kitchen, which could easily be done without anybody's being the wiser. This seemed the most feasible plan, and I agreed to it. It would take him only a few minutes to dress, he assured me, but while I was waiting he begged me to have some breakfast. I told him that it would be impossible for me to eat, but he insisted. As it was most important that the servants should not recognise me, he took me to a quiet restaurant round the corner. There he ordered an ample breakfast, and stayed (notwithstanding my protests) till he satisfied himself that I had done full justice to it. He was gone an incredibly short time, and when he did return I had some difficulty in recognising him, so faultless, to my inexperienced eyes, did his get-up appear. He did not enter the restaurant, but lounged outside, chewing a straw with apparent carelessness. That straw was a very neat touch, for it permitted him to distort his mouth without exciting remark. A battered straw hat, drawn well over his eyes, a large apron, and a market-basket completed the transformation. Even if he had come face to face with a party of friends, I doubt if they would have known him. For who could suspect a man like Mr. Norman of masquerading as a tradesman? People would therefore be inclined to attribute any likeness they observed to an accidental resemblance."