Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Clothes. Wild, he asserted, had robbed him of a large sum of money, and till it was restored he would never plead. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely.
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