"I ain't committed no felony, not likely. She asked me to come to her house--so I come. She says to me, 'You come along o' me to my house, and I'll give you a bit of something to eat.' Now didn't you?" "Certainly. I suppose a gentleman is allowed to visit a lady if she asks him." The dreadful-looking woman, as she stood with her head thrown back, and her nose in the air, presented a picture of something which was meant for condescension, which was not without its pathos. "Of course!--ain't that what I'm saying? She come here, and she took a key out of her pocket, and she put it in the keyhole, and she opened the door, all quite regular, and she says, 'This here's my house,' and she asked me to come in, so of course I come in." "Do you mean to say that she gained entrance to this house by means of a key which she took from her pocket?" "Course! How do you suppose we came in?--through the window? Not hardly, that's not my line, and so I tell you." Graham returned to the woman. "Be so good as to give me the key with which you obtained admission to these premises." The woman put her hand up to her neck, for the first time showing signs of discomposure. "The key?" Starting back, she looked about her wildly, and broke into a series of shrill exclamations. "The key!--my key!--no!--no!--no!--It is all I have left--the only thing I've got. I've kept it through everything--I've never parted from it once. I won't give it you--no!" She came closer to him; glaring at him with terrible eyes. "It's my key--mine! I took it with me when I went that night. He was sitting in here, and I came downstairs with the key in my pocket, and I went--and he never knew. And I've kept it ever since, because I've always said that one day when I went back I should want my key to let me in: I hate to have to stand on the step while they are letting me in." Mr. Graham was regarding her intently, as if he was endeavouring to read what stood with her in the place of a soul. "Is your name Ossington?" "Ossington? Ossington?" She touched the sides of her forehead with the tips of her fingers, glancing about her affrightedly, as if making an effort to recall her surroundings. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Who said Ossington? Who said it? Who asked if my name was--Ossington?" Mr. Graham addressed Miss Brodie. "With your permission I should like to speak to this woman--after the man has gone." In his last words there was meaning. "By all means, if you wish it. Get rid of him at once. At the best the fellow is an impudent intruder, and the story he tells is a ridiculously lame one. He must have been perfectly well aware that a woman of this sort was not likely to possess a house of her own, and that accepting what he calls her invitation he was committing felony." The fellow in question shook his head as if he felt himself ill-used. "I call that hard--cruel hard. If the young lady was to think of it for half a moment she'd see as it was cruel hard."