"A woman muffled in a shawl, in much the same way as my head is now muffled in my skirt, talked to Bolton through the bedroom window of the Sailor's Rest, you know." Hope expostulated.
"My dear lady, how you run on! I assure you that I would as soon suspect Lucy as you." "Thank you," said the widow very dryly and very tartly.
"I merely wish to point out," went on Archie in a conciliatory tone, "that, as the mummy in its case--as appears probable--was brought into your garden between the hours of eight and ten, less fifteen minutes, that you may have heard the voices or footsteps of those who carried it here." "I heard nothing," said Mrs.Jasher, turning towards the path.

"I had my supper, and played a game or two of patience, and then wrote letters, as I told you before.

And I am not going to stand in the cold, answering silly questions, Mr.Hope.If you wish to talk you must come inside." Hope shook his head and lighted a fresh cigarette.
"I stand guard over this mummy until its rightful owner comes," said he determinedly.
"Ho!" rejoined Mrs.Jasher scornfully: she was now at the door.

"I understood that you bought the mummy and therefore were its owner.

Well, I only hope you'll find those emeralds Don Pedro talked about," and with a light laugh she entered the cottage.
Archie looked after her in a puzzled way.