ch was duly cleared, and
the house itself was security for the rest. The company's solicitor,
with Hepworth's consent, acted for both parties.

It was early in June when the Hepworths moved in. They furnished only
one bedroom; and kept no servant, a charwoman coming in every morning
and going away about six in the evening. Jetson was their nearest
neighbour. His wife and daughters called on them, and confess to have
taken a liking to them both. Indeed, between one of the Jetson girls,
the youngest, and Mrs. Hepworth there seems to have sprung up a close
friendship. Young Hepworth, the husband, was always charming, and
evidently took great pains to make himself agreeable. But with regard
to him they had the feeling that he was never altogether at his ease.
They described him--though that, of course, was after the event--as
having left upon them the impression of a haunted man.

There was one occasion in particular. It was about ten o'clock. The
Jetsons had been spending the evening with the Hepworths, and were just
on the point of leaving, when there came a sudden, clear knock at the
door. It turned out to be Jetson's foreman, who had to leave by an
early train in the morning, and had found that he needed some further
instructions. But the terror in Hepworth's face was unmistakable. He
had turned a look towards his wife that was almost of despair; and it
had seemed to the Jetsons--or, talking it over afterwards, they may
have suggested the idea to each other--that there came a flash of
contempt into her eyes, though it yielded the next instant to an
expression of pity. She had risen, and already moved some steps
towards the door, when young Hepworth had stopped her, and gone out
himself. But the curious thing was that, according to the foreman's
account, Hepworth never opened the front door, but came upon him
stealthily from behind. He must have slipped out by the back and crept
round the house.

The incident had puzzled the Jetsons, especially that involuntary flash
of contempt that had come into Mrs. Hepworth's eyes. She had always
appeared to adore her husband, and of the two, if possible, to be the
one most in love with the other. They had no friends or acquaintances
except the Jetsons. No one else among their neighbours had taken the
trouble to call on them, and no stranger to the suburb had, so far as
was known, ever been seen in Laleham Gardens.

Until one evening a little before Christmas.