But he tells them that I am a spy. ” “And what about this man—Mr. The boy’s besotted. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. ” “The inference is, then,” the detective said smoothly, “that this man obtained admission to your rooms by means of a false key, that he burnt some papers here and shot himself within a few moments of your return. He brightened as she took off her hood.
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