Tomlin watched her until she crossed the bridge.

That was on Sunday evening." Superintendent Fowler allowed his placid features to show a flicker of surprise.

In that rural district an actual, downright murder was almost unknown.

Even a case of manslaughter, arising out of a drunken quarrel between laborers at fair-time, did not occur once in five years.
"Oh, she came here on Sunday, did she ?" he asked.
"Yes, sir.

Yesterday, too, she spoke of Mr.Grant to Hobbs, the butcher, and Siddle, the chemist." The two were closeted in the sitting-room of Robinson's cottage, which was situated on the main road near the bridge.