“I will save him the trouble,” I said proudly, and I emptied my pockets of a gold watch and chain, a handkerchief, two sovereigns, a sixpence, two halfpennies, a bunch of keys, my master’s linen book, and a new necktie which I had bought that very evening; of which articles the inspector made an inventory. “Which is the key of the bag?” asked the inspector. The bag was on the desk in front of him, and he had been trying to open it. “I know nothing of that,” I said. “Now you, Susan Berry, give up the key,” the inspector said, sternly, turning to her. For answer Susan burst into sobs, and flung herself against my breast. The situation was excessively embarrassing for me. Heaven knows I had sufficient reason to hate the woman, but though a thief, she was in distress, and I must own that I felt for her. The constable stepped towards Susan. “Surely,” I said, “you have a female searcher?” “A female searcher! Ah, yes!” smiled the inspector, suddenly suave. “Is she here, constable?” “Not now, sir; she’s gone.” “That must wait, then. Take them to the cells.” “Sorry, sir, all the cells are full. Bank Holiday drunks.” The inspector thought a moment. “Lock ’em up in the back room,” he said. “That’ll do for the present. Perhaps the male prisoner may be getting an answer to his note soon. After that they’ll have to go to Vine Street or Marlborough.” The constable touched his helmet, and marched us out. In another moment we were ensconced in a small room, absolutely bare of any furniture, except a short wooden form. The constable was locking the door when Susan Berry screamed out: “You aren’t going to lock us up here together in the dark?” “Why, what do you want? Didn’t you hear the cells are full?” I was profoundly thankful they were full. I did not fancy a night in a cell. “I want a candle,” she said, fiercely. He brought one, or rather half of one, stuck in a bottle, and placed it on the mantelpiece. Then he left us. Again I say the situation was excessively embarrassing. For myself, I said nothing. Susan Berry dropped on the form, and hiding her face in her hands, gave way to tears without any manner of restraint. I pitied her a little, but that influence which previously she had exercised over me was gone. “Oh, Mr. Saunders,” she sobbed, “what shall we do?” And as she spoke she suddenly looked up at me with a glance of feminine appeal. I withstood it.