She looked as if stricken in a vital part; he saw from her face that there was something wrong--very wrong indeed.
The hours dragged on.

All three felt moody and ill at ease.

Daisy knew there was no chance that young Chandler would come in to-day.
About six o'clock Mrs.Bunting went upstairs.

She lit the gas in Mr.Sleuth's sitting-room and looked about her with a fearful glance.
Somehow everything seemed to speak to her of the lodger, there lay her Bible and his Concordance, side by side on the table, exactly as he had left them, when he had come downstairs and suggested that ill-starred expedition to his landlord's daughter.

She took a few steps forward, listening the while anxiously for the familiar sound of the click in the door which would tell her that the lodger had come back, and then she went over to the window and looked out.
What a cold night for a man to be wandering about, homeless, friendless, and, as she suspected with a pang, with but very little money on him! Turning abruptly, she went into the lodger's bedroom and opened the drawer of the looking-glass.
Yes, there lay the much-diminished heap of sovereigns.