Nine, or was it ten?
Surely by now The Avenger must be avenged?
Surely by now, if--as that writer in the newspaper had suggested--he was a quiet, blameless gentleman living in the West End, whatever vengeance he had to wreak, must be satisfied?
She began hurrying homewards; it wouldn't do for the lodger to ring before she had got back.

Bunting would never know how to manage Mr.
Sleuth, especially if Mr.Sleuth was in one of his queer moods.
****** Mrs.Bunting put the key into the front door lock and passed into the house.

Then her heart stood still with fear and terror.

There came the sound of voices--of voices she thought she did not know-- in the sitting-room.
She opened the door, and then drew a long breath.

It was only Joe Chandler--Joe, Daisy, and Bunting, talking together.