I read of that terrible murder in Crooked Friars' Alley only a few days ago,--is not that how you call the place ?" Laverick was suddenly grave.

What was this that was coming?
"One of the reports," she continued, "says that the man was a foreigner.

The maker's name upon his clothes was Austrian.

I, too, come from that part of Europe--if not from Austria, from a country very near--and I am always interested in my country-people.
A few moments ago I asked my friend Mr.Bellamy, 'Where is this Crooked Friars' Alley ?' Just then he bowed to you, and he answered me, 'It is in the city.

It is within a yard or two of the offices of the gentleman to whom I just have said good-evening.' So I looked across at you and I thought that it was strange." Laverick scarcely knew what to say.
"It was a terrible affair," he admitted, "and, as Mr.Bellamy has told you, it occurred within a few steps of my office.