There was a neighbour of mine as had told me that all you'd got to do was to tell the policeman at the door that you wanted to see your own Member of Parliament.

So when I got there I told 'em that I wanted to see our M.P., Mr.Stonewood--you'll have heard tell of him, no doubt; he knows me very well--and they passed me, and I wrote out a ticket for him, and they told me to sit down while they found him.

So I sat down in a grand sort of hall where there were a rare lot of people going and coming, and some fine pictures and images to look at, and for a time I looked at them, and then I began to take a bit of notice of the folk near at hand, waiting, you know, like myself.

And as sure as I'm a christened man, sir, the gentleman whose picture you've got in your paper--him as was murdered--was sitting next to me! I knew that picture as soon as I saw it this morning." Spargo, who had been making unmeaning scribbles on a block of paper, suddenly looked at his visitor.
"What time was that ?" he asked.
"It was between a quarter and half-past nine, sir," answered Mr.
Webster.

"It might ha' been twenty past--it might ha' been twenty-five past." "Go on, if you please," said Spargo.
"Well, sir, me and this here dead gentleman talked a bit.