Nevertheless,
Thorndyke stepped out briskly, but instead of making directly for the
mortuary, he strayed off unaccountably into Mansell Street, scanning the
numbers of the houses as he went. A row of old houses, picturesque but
grimy, on our right seemed specially to attract him, and he slowed down
as we approached them.
"There is a quaint survival, Jervis," he remarked, pointing to a crudely
painted, wooden effigy of an Indian standing on a bracket at the door of
a small old-fashioned tobacconist's shop. We halted to look at the
little image, and at that moment the side door opened, and a woman came
out on to the doorstop, where she stood gazing up and down the street.
Thorndyke immediately crossed the pavement, and addressed her,
apparently with some question, for I heard her answer presently: "A
quarter-past six is his time, sir, and he is generally punctual to the
minute."
"Thank you," said Thorndyke; "I'll bear that in mind;" and, lifting his
hat, he walked on briskly, turning presently up a side-street which
brought us out into Aldgate. It was now but five minutes to four, so we
strode off quickly to keep our tryst at the mortuary; but although we
arrived at the gate as the hour was striking, when we entered the
building we found Dr.
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