"What is it he refuses to tell you?" asked Miss Penfold. "The name of the lady whom he saw at Lord Calliston's chambers on the night of the murder. I believe myself it was Lady Balscombe." "Lady Balscombe!" echoed May in astonishment, "why what would take her there?" "Perhaps she went to meet Lord Calliston. The reason why I think it's she is that Mr. Desmond says he promised the lady he saw that he would not speak without her permission, and then he tells me he cannot speak till Lord Calliston's yacht comes back, and as Lady Balscombe is the only lady on board it must be her." "But why should he refuse to tell you it was her?" Norwood shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's hardly the thing for a lady to visit a chambers at that hour of the night--her reputation----" "Her reputation!" repeated May Penfold contemptuously, "he need not try to save it now, considering she's thrown it away by eloping with Lord Calliston; but what else is there in his favour?" "The principal thing is the dagger," said Norwood; "he told me he took it from Lena Sarschine and brought it home--so if his landlady or anyone else put it away, they must have seen it--and so it will show the truth of his story." "Then in order to find out it will be best to see his landlady." "Certainly--but I don't know where he lives." "I do--Primrose Crescent, Bloomsbury. You go there and find out what you can." "I may as well try," said Norwood thoughtfully, "but I'm afraid it's a forlorn hope." "Forlorn hopes generally succeed," replied May with a confident smile. "So you go to his lodgings, and then let me know the result of your inquiries." Norwood agreed to this, and after Miss Penfold had departed called a cab and drove to the address of Myles Desmond. Rondalina, more wan and ghost-like than ever, opened the door and informed the lawyer that Mrs. Mulgy had gone out. "That's a pity," said Norwood, in a disappointed tone. "Are you the servant?" "Yes sir," replied Rondalina, dropping a curtsey. "And you attend to all the lodgers?" "Yes, sir." "Oh! then perhaps you can tell me what I want to know," said Norwood cheerfully. "Take me up to Mr. Desmond's room." Rondalina, being a London girl, was very sharp, and looked keenly at Mr. Norwood to see if he had any design of burglary. The scrutiny proving satisfactory, she led him upstairs, and showed him Desmond's sitting-room. "Now then," said Norwood, taking a seat, "I want you to answer me a few questions." Rondalina looked frightened, and said, "Yes, sir," in a mechanical manner. "First," asked Norwood, "do you dust this room and put things straight?" "I do, sir." "Do you remember seeing a broken dagger about the place--a blade and a handle?" Rondalina twisted her apron up into a knot and thought hard, then intimated she had seen it. "Oh!--and when did you see it?"