The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. The thing is, Miss Charvill —’ ‘He told you my name?’ cut in Melusine, surprised. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. . “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.
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