"Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms." "Was the murder committed in one of the bedrooms?" "No, Mr. Fanks. It was committed in the room at the end of this passage." "And why was the body removed out of that room?" "I removed the body," said Mrs. Boazoph, in a low voice. "You had no right to do so," rebuked Fanks, sharply. "It was your duty to leave things as they were, when you discovered that a crime had been committed, and to give immediate information to the police." "I did do so, sir. The police were in this house ten minutes after I saw the dead body." "Nevertheless, you found time to remove it in that ten minutes." "I thought it best to do so," said Mrs. Boazoph, obstinately. "No doubt. I shall not forget your zeal," was Fanks' rejoinder. The woman could not repress a shudder at the ironical tone of the detective, and her pale face turned yet paler. However, she passed discreetly over the remark and turned the conversation briskly. "Shall I take you upstairs to see the body, sir? "No; I shall first examine the room. Afterwards I shall hear your story and inspect the corpse. Come with me, Crate." Still preserving an impenetrable countenance, Mrs. Boazoph preceded the two men into the little room at the end of the passage. It was an apartment of no great size, furnished in a scanty, almost in a penurious fashion. A window draped with faded curtains of red rep faced the entrance There was no fireplace, and the furniture consisted of a mahogany horse-hair sofa placed against the right-hand wall looking from the door, a round table covered with a stained red cloth, which stood in the centre of the room, and on either side of this two chairs. A crimson felting carpeted the floor, and a few racing pictures, crudely coloured, adorned the salmon-tinted walls. Beyond this the room contained nothing, save an iron gas-pipe suspended from the roof, by which two jets flaring in pink globes lighted the apartment. Fanks glanced slowly round, taking in every detail, and walked across to the window. It was locked, the curtains were drawn, the blind was down. As it was too dark to see the outlook, Fanks turned to Mrs. Boazoph for information. "What does this window look out on to?" "A yard, sir." "Is there any outlet from the yard?" "No, sir, excepting through the kitchen where the servants have been all the evening." "When you entered the room and discovered the fact of the murder, where was the body?" "Huddled up on yonder sofa, sir." "Was the room in the same state as it is now?" "In precisely the same state, Mr. Fanks." "Wait a moment," interposed Crate; "you told me that you took some glasses out of the room." Mrs. Boazoph darted a tigerish glance at the detective, which revealed the hidden possibilities of her nature. However, she replied with all possible meekness-- "I quite forgot that, sir I did take two glasses off that table."