Only a drop or two fell out on to the carpet, and they don't show, as you see, sir, for it's a dark corner.

Shall I take the bottle away?
I may as well." Mr.Sleuth hesitated.

"No," he said, after a long pause, "I think not, Mrs.Bunting.For the very little I require it the ink remaining in the bottle will do quite well, especially if I add a little water, or better still, a little tea, to what already remains in the bottle.

I only require it to mark up passages which happen to be of peculiar interest in my Concordance--a work, Mrs.
Bunting, which I should have taken great pleasure in compiling myself had not this--ah--this gentleman called Cruden, been before." ****** Not only Bunting, but Daisy also, thought Ellen far pleasanter in her manner than usual that evening.

She listened to all they had to say about their interesting visit to the Black Museum, and did not snub either of them--no, not even when Bunting told of the dreadful, haunting, silly-looking death-masks taken from the hanged.
But a few minutes after that, when her husband suddenly asked her a question, Mrs.Bunting answered at random.