If only he had taken his money out with him! She wondered painfully whether he had enough on his person to secure a good night's lodging, and then suddenly she remembered that which brought relief to her mind.

The lodger had given something to that Hopkins fellow--either a sovereign or half a sovereign, she wasn't sure which.
The memory of Mr.Sleuth's cruel words to her, of his threat, did not disturb her overmuch.

It had been a mistake--all a mistake.
Far from betraying Mr.Sleuth, she had sheltered him--kept his awful secret as she could not have kept it had she known, or even dimly suspected, the horrible fact with which Sir John Burney's words had made her acquainted; namely, that Mr.Sleuth was victim of no temporary aberration, but that he was, and had been for years, a madman, a homicidal maniac.
In her ears there still rang the Frenchman's half careless yet confident question, "De Leipsic and Liverpool man ?" Following a sudden impulse, she went back into the sitting-room, and taking a black-headed pin out of her bodice stuck it amid the leaves of the Bible.

Then she opened the Book, and looked at the page the pin had marked:-- "My tabernacle is spoiled and all my cords are broken.

.