“On Saturday, yesterday, that is, Ben comes back from his dinner a little after two, and the first thing he does is to pick up his pipe and light it. All at once he takes it out of his mouth and cusses. Dick asks him what’s the matter, and he says that the mouthpiece is rough and that he’s scratched his tongue on it. They have a look at the pipe together, and the old man finds a tiny splinter of glass stuck to the mouthpiece. He scrapes it off with a knife, lights his pipe again, and Dick goes out to get his dinner, same as he always does when the old man comes into the shop.”

Mr. Copperdock paused, and the herbalist, who had been listening attentively, took the opportunity of putting in a question. “ Mrs. Colburn has been dead some little time, I believe?”