She timidly said,
in reply to his inquiry for her husband, that he had just "stepped out"
down the street.
"Then you had better send your little girl after him," said Rolfe,
seating himself on the one rickety chair on the outside of the counter.
"I want to see him."
Mrs. Hill seemed at a loss to reply for a moment. Then she answered,
nervously plucking at her apron the while: "I don't think it'd be much
use doing that, sir. You see, Mr. Hill doesn't always tell me where he's
going and I don't really know where he is."
"Then why did you tell me that he had just stepped out down the street?"
asked Rolfe sharply.
"Because I thought he mightn't be far away."
"Then, as a matter of fact, you don't know where he is or when
he'll be back?"
"No, sir."
Her prompt and uncompromising reply indicated that she did not want him
to wait for her husband.
"I think I'll wait," said Rolfe, looking at her steadily.
"Yes, sir."
Daphne appeared at the door of the parlour which led into the shop and
her mother waved her back angrily.
"Go to bed this instant, miss; it's long past your bedtime," she said.
It was obvious that Mrs. Hill retained a vivid recollection of how
disastrous had been Daphne's appearance during Inspector Chippenfield's
first visit to the shop.
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