ave the house. It must have been a strong one, for she
would never stir out alone in London of her own accord. If Mrs.
Clements had not known this by experience nothing would have induced
her to go away in the cab, even for so short a time as half an hour
only.

As soon as she could collect her thoughts, the first idea that
naturally occurred to Mrs. Clements was to go and make inquiries at the
Asylum, to which she dreaded that Anne had been taken back.

She went there the next day, having been informed of the locality in
which the house was situated by Anne herself. The answer she received
(her application having in all probability been made a day or two
before the false Anne Catherick had really been consigned to safe
keeping in the Asylum) was, that no such person had been brought back
there. She had then written to Mrs. Catherick at Welmingham to know if
she had seen or heard anything of her daughter, and had received an
answer in the negative. After that reply had reached her, she was at
the end of her resources, and perfectly ignorant where else to inquire
or what else to do. From that time to this she had remained in total
ignorance of the cause of Anne's disappearance and of the end of Anne's
story.

VII

Thus far the information which I had received from Mrs. Clements--though
it established facts of which I had not previously been
aware--was of a preliminary character only.

It was clear that the series of deceptions which had removed Anne
Catherick to London, and separated her from Mrs. Clements, had been
accomplished solely by Count Fosco and the Countess, and the question
whether any part of the conduct of husband or wife had been of a kind
to place either of them within reach of the law might be well worthy of
future consideration. But the purpose I had now in view led me in
another direction than this. The immediate object of my visit to Mrs.
Clements was to make some approach at least to the discovery of Sir
Percival's secret, and she had said nothing as yet which advanced me on
my way to that important end. I felt the necessity of trying to awaken
her recollections of other times, persons, and events than those on
which her memory had hitherto been employed, and when I next spoke I
spoke with that object indirectly in view.

"I wish I could be of any help to you in this sad calamity," I said.
"All I can do is to feel heartily for your distress. If Anne had been
your own child, Mrs.