"But when am I to see you again?" asked Ralph, following her to the door. Perry Toat looked back with a demure face. "When I have something to report." "You'll do your best?" Shawe urged her. "I always do my best for my clients," she said, in a tone of faint rebuke. "But in this case there is much money also." "Oh, I shan't charge you much, Mr. Shawe." "I am not alluding to that. I shall pay you well. But if you lay hands on the assassin you shall have the thousand pounds' reward offered by--" Peronella Toat interrupted with a flushed face. "One thousand pounds!" she said, drawing a deep breath. "Yes, I forgot that. I must earn it. If I do, I can gain my heart's desire." "What is that?" She smiled demurely. "A husband," was her reply, and she vanished. Ralph went back to his room with a look of wonder. It seemed impossible that this shadow of a woman should ever be able to gain a husband, even if she had a bribe of one thousand pounds to offer her bridegroom. For more than a week Miss Toat remained absent, and during that period she haunted Walpole Lane. She sought out Madame Coralie, and declared that she wanted her complexion improved. The owner of the Pink Shop thought that there was much room for improvement, and did wonders for the five-pound note. This was a less charge than she usually made, but since the murder, business had been bad with Madame Coralie, and she was willing enough to capture small fish, as the big ones, for the moment, would not be enticed into her net. After Miss Toat's complexion had been renovated that wily person decided to undergo a course of treatment for hair and figure, which necessitated two or three nights' stay in the shop. It was for this reason that she wrote to Shawe and asked him to forward twenty pounds. He did so rather ruefully, for he was not well off, and the search for the assassin promised to be expensive. However, it was for Audrey's sake, so Ralph parted with very good grace with his hard-earned money. Having thus obtained funds in plenty, the detective took up her abode in the very bedroom wherein Lady Branwin had been murdered. She knew that it was the fatal chamber, as she had seen the plan of the shop, which the daily papers had published when the murder was the sensation of the day. Madame Coralie was rather vexed when Miss Toat mentioned this artlessly to her, on being installed in the room. "That murder will ruin my business," said the Medea of Walpole Lane, gloomily. "Oh, I don't think so," said her client, sweetly. "I don't mind in the least sleeping in the room where a crime has been committed." "You are a very sensible woman, Miss Toat," said Madame Coralie, energetically. "All my friends seem to have deserted me since the death of Lady Branwin." "They will come back, Madame." Miss Toat nodded vigorously. "The event will soon pass out of their minds. By the way, has anything been heard likely to show who is guilty?"