"Ah," said Totty, fixing her eyes pensively on the little black tea-pot, "it ain't no good being a reformatory. The way I've talked to him about his goings on and now look at his goings off." "Perhaps he couldn't help himself," said Mrs. Swizzle, who was tall and thin, and spoke in a kind of subdued whistle. "He never tried to, I'll be bound," retorted Mrs. Povy, wrathfully. "Not as he's always bin after married pussons, for I know there is a gal as he pays for her board and lodging." "Lor'," whistled Mrs. Swizzle, curiously. "Where?" "Never you mind," returned Totty, screwing up her mouth. "She's a gal as no decent woman 'ud speak to her--silks and satings and wasting of money--oh, I've no patience with 'em! Kettles is snow in whiteness with gals' morals now." At this moment there came a ring at the door, and Totty hurrying away to attend to it, Mrs. Swizzle made the best use of her time by eating up the buttered toast as rapidly as she could. When Mrs. Povy opened the door she was confronted by a lank figure in grey, which was none other than Dowker, come to prosecute his inquiries concerning Miss Sarschine. "Well?" enquired Totty gruffly, annoyed at being disturbed, "and what do you want?" Dowker gazed on the substantial figure before him and sighed. "A few words with you about Lord Calliston," he said softly. Mrs. Povy shook with wrath. "I ain't no spy or gossip," she said. "And if that is what you want to find out, this ain't the shop--so walk out," and she prepared to shut the door. But Dowker was too sharp for her, and placed his foot inside. "Wait a moment, my good lady," he said, quietly. "I don't mean any harm to Lord Calliston, and what I want to speak to you about is important." Curiosity got the better of Totty's wrath, so after a time she consented to speak to Dowker privately, and to this end led him upstairs to Calliston's rooms. "We're quiet here," she said, closing the door. "I can't ask you into my own room, as a perticler friend of mine is drinking tea with me." "This will do capitally," replied Dowker, glancing round the room. "And now, as my curiosity may appear rude and you may refuse to answer some of my questions, I may as well tell you who I am." "And who are you?" asked Mrs. Povy uneasily, "a noospaper or a politics?" "Dowker--detective." Mrs. Povy's naturally red face became white. "What's up?" she gasped. "Has Lord Calliston bin doing anything wrong?" "No, no," replied Dowker soothingly. "I only want to obtain some information about Miss Sarschine." "I don't know that kind of pusson," said Totty angrily. "Never mind if you know her or not," retorted Dowker sternly, "but answer my questions." Mrs. Povy sniffed and would have refused, but there was something in the detective's eye which quelled her, so she yielded an ungracious assent. "When did Lord Calliston leave town for his yacht?" "About a week ago--on Monday last." "Where was his yacht lying?"