CHAPTER SIX.
GALLOWAY HOUSE.
My business-like readers have, I dare say, found fault with me for representing a business conference on which so much depended as having taken place on the front doorstep of Galloway House, and without occupying much more than five minutes in the transaction.

How did Jeffreys know what sort of person Mrs Trimble was?
She might have been a Fury or a Harpy.

Her house might have been badly drained.

Mr Fison might have left her because he couldn't get his wages.

And what did Mrs Trimble know about the Bolsover cad?
She never even asked for a testimonial.