The chemist, unless he elected to behave like a love-sick fool, had no option but to follow, and make his way to the street by the side door.
The only other happening of significance that Sunday was an unheralded visit by Winter to the policeman's residence.
He popped in after dusk, opening the door without knocking.
"You in, Robinson ?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir.

Will you--" "Shan't detain you more than a minute.

At the inquest you said that you personally untied the rope which bound Miss Melhuish's body.

Here are a piece of string and a newspaper.

Would you mind showing me what sort of knot was used ?" Robinson was nearly struck dumb, and his fingers fumbled badly, but he managed to exhibit two hitches.
"Ah, thanks," said Winter, and was off in a jiffy.
From the window of a darkened room Robinson watched the erect, burly figure of the detective until it was merged in the mists of night.
"Well, I'm--," he exclaimed bitterly.
"John, what are you swearing about ?" demanded his wife from the kitchen.
"Something I heard to-day," answered her husband.