"Oh, that is a pose for the benefit of Schwartz. If he didn't love Hilda the German would kick him out. Garret killed his wife with ill-treatment, and was on the fair way to exterminate Hilda when Schwartz interposed and became her good angel. Now the old scoundrel, Garret, behaves well to her, knowing that in such way he can manage Schwartz." "You seem to know all about it, Cass!" "I hear all the gossip, Bob. It may be true or it may not, but I am certain that Schwartz and Garret have been together these ten years carrying on their rascalities." "Are they rascals?" Cass laughed and nodded. "Rumour says very much so, but Schwartz is the more lovable scoundrel of the two. There is something pathetic in the way in which he clings to that blind girl." "'There lives some soul of good in all things evil,'" quoted Ellis. "Well, I shall call at Goethe Cottage and see what I can do for the girl. If I can cure her after all the European surgeons have failed it will be a feather in my cap. Business is rolling in at last, old fellow." "About time," said Cass, in satisfied tones. "You'll ride in your carriage yet, Bob." The doctor laughed at this prophecy. It did not seem so impossible of realisation now as it had once been. Then he turned his attention to the stage, on which a stout lady in the shortest of skirts was favouring the audience with a song and interpolated dance of the orthodox pattern:-- "For I 'ave a little feller on the string, (Dance) And on me 'and he's put a little ring, (Dance) To the little chorch this little gal he'll taike, She'll kiss 'im for his own sweet saike, And he'll love 'er as 'is little bit of caike." (Dance) "That is Polly Horley," said Cass, referring to the singer of this gem. "She is a great favourite here." "I don't wonder," replied Ellis, drearily; "the song is senseless enough to please even this brainless audience. Why must a music-hall ditty consist of bad English and worse grammar, delivered with a Cockney accent? Polly Horley! I know her! When I was house surgeon at St. Jude's Hospital she was brought in with a broken leg. We were excellent friends." "Or great pals, as Miss Horley would put it. Let us send round your card and ask for an interview.' "For what reason? I don't want to see that stout female." "My dear fellow, Polly has been a star here since Schwartz opened the hall, and she, if anyone, will know about Moxton and Zirknitz." "By Jove! that is true, Harry. You are a better detective than I am. Get that waiter there to take round our cards."