"In the way of the yellow van," replied Gebb, promptly. "As Mrs. Presk truly observed, the hard fact of that van shows that Miss Ligram was in the habit of moving from place to place with her tent, and setting it up after the fashion of an Arab, in whatever spot took her fancy. Now, when those other people who have had the Yellow Boudoir set out in its tawdry splendour under their roofs read of Miss Ligram's death, and recognize the description of her strange room, they will come forward, and detail their experiences of the lady. So, in one way and another, we may be enabled to trace Miss Ligram's past life back to a starting-point It is the only chance I can see of gaining any knowledge." Within the week events of a strange nature justified the judicious belief entertained by the astute detective. Letters in female caligraphy were received at Scotland Yard, stating that the writers could give certain information to the police concerning the murdered woman. Also, a few days later, decayed females of the landlady genus presented themselves in person to detail their experiences of Miss Ligram and her eccentricities. From all these personal and written statements it appeared that for four years, more or less, Miss Ligram had been moving from one part of London to another. In no one place she had remained longer than six months, and in each her conduct and mode of life had been the same. She arrived regularly in the yellow van, and, having obtained permission from the various landladies at the cost of paying double the rent demanded, as regularly set up and furnished her Yellow Boudoir. As in the latest instance of the Grangebury episode, she consulted fortune-tellers, spiritualists, and shady people of a like nature, departing at the end of each tenancy without a word as to her destination. It would seem from this evidence that the woman was consistent in her eccentricities, and conducted her strangely secretive life on the most methodical principles. One thing which seemed of a piece with the dead woman's desire for concealment, was that in every place she--so to speak--camped in, she gave a different name; each appellation being stranger than the last, and all apparently of her own manufacture. She figured at Hampstead under the name of Margil; in Richmond she was known as Miss Ramlig; when housed in St. John's Wood she called herself Milgar; and at Shepherd's Bush--but for the sake of clearness it will be advisable to let the several landladies speak for themselves--five persons, five pieces of information more or less similar, and five obviously made-up names. So much for the past of Miss Ligram.