“Well, ma’am, I was comin’ in to ask if the visitors was stayin’ for lunch when this man jumped out at me.”
“I have been listening to her for the last five minutes, but did not wish to interrupt your most interesting narrative. Just a little wheezy, Susan, are you not? You breathe too heavily for that kind of work.”
Susan turned a sulky but amazed face upon her captor. “Who be you, anyhow, and what right have you a-pullin’ me about like this?”
“It was merely that I wished to ask a question in your presence. Did you, Mrs. Maberley, mention to anyone that you were going to write to me and consult me?”
“No, Mr. Holmes, I did not.”
“Who posted your letter?”
“Susan did.”
“Exactly. Now, Susan, to whom was it that you wrote or sent a message to say that your mistress was asking advice from me?”
“It’s a lie. I sent no message.”
“Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, you know. It’s a wicked thing to tell fibs. Whom did you tell?”
“Susan!” cried her mistress, “I believe you are a bad, treacherous woman. I remember now that I saw you speaking to someone over the hedge.”
“That was my own business,” said the woman sullenly.
“Suppose I tell you that it was Barney Stockdale to whom you spoke?” said Holmes.
“Well, if you know, what do you want to ask for?”