She could feel her face turning beet red. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. It is Thérèse. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business. Besides, I don't think he's going to ask, if that is what you are getting at. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows. You will have a bungalow to yourself," continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own affair. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it.
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