“Well, if you really must know, she is an old nurse of my wife’s, Rose Spender by name, whom we found in the Brixton Workhouse Infirmary. We brought her round here, called in Dr. Horsom, of 13 Firbank Villas⁠—mind you take the address, Mr. Holmes⁠—and had her carefully tended, as Christian folk should. On the third day she died⁠—certificate says senile decay⁠—but that’s only the doctor’s opinion, and of course you know better. We ordered her funeral to be carried out by Stimson and Co. , of the Kennington Road, who will bury her at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Can you pick any hole in that, Mr. Holmes? You’ve made a silly blunder, and you may as well own up to it. I’d give something for a photograph of your gaping, staring face when you pulled aside that lid expecting to see the Lady Frances Carfax and only found a poor old woman of ninety.”