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Broham was gaping at Moody, open-mouthed.

‘Just what do you mean by this, Mr. Moody?’ said the justice.

‘Simply that Mr. Carver obtained the barque Godspeed by methods of extortion, impersonation, and fraud,’ Moody said, ‘and used the same tactics in thieving a fortune of many thousands of pounds from Mr. Wells in May of last year—a theft he achieved, presumably, with Mrs. Carver’s help, given that she is now his wife.’

Broham, who was still struggling to place the events of the past five minutes in sequence in his mind, petitioned for a recess; but his request could hardly be heard above the commotion in the gallery. Justice Kemp, raising his voice to a shout, requested the immediate presence of both Mr. Broham and Mr. Moody in the Magistrate’s office; then he gave the instruction for all witnesses to be placed in custody, and adjourned the court.

THE HOUSE OF MANY WISHES

In which Lydia Wells is as good as her word; A

The face that number 35, Cumberland-street presented to the thoroughfare was oddly blank: pale clapboard siding; a mullioned shop-window, papered over with butcher’s paper; a pair of curtained sash windows on the floor above. The establishments on either side—Number 37 was a bootmaker’s, and number 33, a shipping agency—had been built very close, masking any sense, from the street, of interior proportion. Walking past it, one might even have presumed the building to be unoccupied, for there were no signs or legends above the doorway, nothing on the porch, and no card in the plate above the knocker.

Mrs. Wells opened the front door with her own key. She led A

A more worldly soul than A

‘You see that I take very good care of my girls,’ said her hostess. A

A

As soon as she was gone Lydia Wells turned to A

‘I have appointments uptown which I must keep; but I shall be back in time for supper, and will expect us to take it together. You may ask Lucy for whatever you desire in the world. If she can find it, it will be found. Stay in the tub as long as you like, and use anything on the washstand that strikes your fancy. I insist that you make yourself entirely at home.’

A

The maid had left a cold luncheon on the table below the window, the plate covered with a piece of cloth. A

Once the plate was clean, she sat wondering for some minutes whether she ought to ring the bell for the service to be cleared away: would it be more imperious to ring, or not to ring? Eventually she decided not to. She got up from the table and went to the window, where she drew the curtains, and, feeling very contented, stood awhile to watch the traffic in the street. The clock had struck three before she heard any sound from the floor below: sudden voices in the passage, and then footsteps mounting the stairs, and then a brisk two-knuckled knock at the door.

She had barely time to rise before the door was flung open, and in strode a tall, very dirty man, dressed in yellow moleskin trousers and a faded coat. When he saw A

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Beg your pardon.’

‘Good afternoon,’ A

‘You one of Lydia’s girls?’

‘Yes.’

‘New girl?’

‘I arrived today.’

‘You and I both,’ said the man. He had sandy hair and a slightly grizzled look. ‘Good afternoon to you.’

‘Can I help you?’

He gri

‘She has appointments uptown.’

‘What time will she be back?’

‘She said by suppertime,’ A

‘Well: have you any appointments, before then?’

‘No,’ A

‘Good,’ the man said. ‘Mind if I reserve the next dance?’

A

Mrs. Wells,’ said the man, and laughed. ‘Sounds almost respectable, when you put it like that.’ He reached back and closed the door behind him. ‘Crosbie’s my name. What’s yours?’

‘Miss A

He was already moving to the sideboard. ‘Care for a drop of something, Miss A

‘No, thank you.’

He picked up a bottle and tilted it at her. ‘No because you don’t have a taste for liquor, or no because you’re being polite?’

‘I only just arrived.’

‘You’ve told me so once already, my girl, and anyway, that doesn’t answer the question I asked.’

‘I wouldn’t want to take advantage of Mrs. Wells’s hospitality,’ said A

Crosbie uncorked the bottle, sniffed, and recorked it. ‘Oh, there’s no such thing as hospitality,’ he said, returning the bottle to the tray, and selecting another. ‘You’ll be billed for everything you touch in this room, and quick as thieves. You mark my words.’