She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. ” “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.
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