"Bunting," she said a little breathlessly, "the lodger would like you just to lend him the Sun." Bunting handed it over to her.

"I've read it through," he observed.
"You can tell him that I don't want it back again." On her way up she glanced down at the pink sheet.

Occupying a third of the space was an irregular drawing, and under it was written, in rather large characters: "We are glad to be able to present our readers with an authentic reproduction of the footprint of the half-worn rubber sole which was almost certainly worn by The Avenger when he committed his double murder ten days ago." She went into the sitting-room.

To her relief it was empty.
"Kindly put the paper down on the table," came Mr.Sleuth's muffled voice from the upper landing.
She did so.

"Yes, sir.