"Is it not a strange thing, Mrs.Bunting, that people who have all day in which to amuse themselves should carry their revels far into the night ?" "Oh, I wasn't thinking of revellers, sir; I was thinking"-- she hesitated, then, with a gasping effort Mrs.Bunting brought out the words, "of the police." "The police ?" He put up his right hand and stroked his chin two or three times with a nervous gesture.

"But what is man--what is man's puny power or strength against that of God, or even of those over whose feet God has set a guard ?" Mr.Sleuth looked at his landlady with a kind of triumph lighting up his face, and Mrs.Bunting felt a shuddering sense of relief.

Then she had not offended her lodger?
She had not made him angry by that, that--was it a hint she had meant to convey to him?
"Very true, sir," she said respectfully.

"But Providence means us to take care o' ourselves too." And then she closed the door behind her and went downstairs.
But Mr.Sleuth's landlady did not go on, down to the kitchen.

She came into her sitting-room, and, careless of what Bunting would think the next morning, put the tray with the remains of the lodger's meal on her table.