"Pray do not mention it, Mrs. Boazoph," said Fanks, significantly; "I have already examined the cloth. And now, if you please, we will go upstairs." The woman drew back and bit her lip. She guessed that Fanks had seen through her stratagem, and for the moment she was minded to excuse herself. Fortunately her habitual caution saved her from a second blunder; and she strove to conciliate Fanks by a piece of news. "I trust that you will not think me presuming, sir," she said, "but in the hope that there might be some chance of life remaining in It, I sent for a doctor. He is now upstairs with It." "Your kindness does you great credit," said Fanks, seeing his way clear to a thrust, "you could not have behaved better if you had known this man." Holding the candle before her face, Mrs. Boazoph drew back a step, with one hand clutching the bosom of her dress. Her composure gave way. "In one word, you suspect me," she cried with a glitter in her eyes. "In one word, I suspect nobody," retorted Fanks. "I have not yet heard all your story, remember." "You know all that I know," said Mrs. Boazoph. "The man who came here at six this evening--the man who lies dead upstairs, is a complete stranger to me. I caught only a glimpse of him as he entered; I did not speak to him. He asked for a private room in which to wait for a friend. He was shown into this room, and waited. The negro arrived ten minutes later. I saw him--I showed him into this room; but indeed, Mr. Fanks, I never set eyes on him before. The pair--white and black--were together till close on seven. They had something to drink, for which the dead man paid. I did not enter the room; it was the barmaid who served them with drink. I did not know when the negro went; but, wanting the room for some other gentlemen, I knocked at the door at seven o'clock to ask if they had finished their conversation. I received no reply; I opened the door; I entered; I found the white man dead, the negro absent. After removing the body upstairs and covering it with a sheet, as any decent woman would, I sent for the police. That is all; I swear that it is the truth. Say what you please; do what you please; you cannot fasten this crime on to me." Fanks listened to this speech with great imperturbability, and made but one comment thereon. "I took you for a clever woman, Mrs. Boazoph," he said, "evidently I have been wrong. Will you be so kind as to light us upstairs." Mrs. Boazoph thrust the candle into his hands. "I have seen _It_ once; I refuse to look upon it again."