"Do you remember what the man was like in looks?" said the inspector, replacing the frame, much disappointed. "No," replied the old man; "my eyesight's that bad as I can hardly tell A from B. It was the picture of a bearded man." "A pointed beard?" "I can't say. He had a beard, that's all I know. Mrs. Brand said that his business took him away a good deal. But she didn't say he was a commercial gent." "Did Mrs. Brand, go out much?" "Not at all. I told you so before. She kept very much to herself, in a haughty kind of way. Thought herself a fine lady, I suppose, and there's no denying she was a lady. She has been my tenant for over five years, and always paid regular, but she knew no one, and when any one called she never would let them in. I only got to know of this room because I came for my rent." "Did she pay her bills regularly?" "Yes. I asked that, being fearful for my rent. She always paid up like a lady. Not that she took much in. Generally she lived by herself, so didn't eat much, keeping no servant either." "Did she ever go out to concerts or theatres or anywhere?" "When her husband came home she used to enjoy herself. I believe she went to the opera, or to concerts, being fond of music." "Ah!" Derrick recalled the song. "Did she sing?" "Not that I ever heard of. She told me very little about herself, and what I know I had to drag out of her. She came five years ago and took this cottage by herself. Afterwards her husband, as she called him, came. I never saw him, and she always paid her rent regularly. That's all I know." "Why do you think Mr. Brand was not her husband?" "I never said he wasn't. I don't know. She seemed a respectable person, and was very quiet in her living and dress. Sometimes she shut up the cottage and went away for a week." "Always for a week?" "Yes. She never was absent long. I suppose she and her husband had a jaunt all to themselves. She had no children. But ain't you going to look at the rest of the house?" "Yes." Derrick cast his eyes round the room again. On the round white wood table was a photograph album bound in white leather. He opened this, and found that all the portraits therein--the book was only half full--were those of women. Several were of Mrs. Brand as child and girl and woman. Spaces showed that five or six portraits had been removed. Derrick noted this, and then left the drawing-room thoughtfully. It seemed to him as though all the male portraits had been removed on purpose. And the chances were that in an album belonging to the wife, portraits of the husband might be found. At the door of the white room he cast his eyes on the ground. "Has it been raining?" he asked.