They were fitting the key into the door when the head of a fair-haired young woman appeared on the landing above and smiled down at them. “The people downstairs left a message last night that some gentleman from Scotland Yard wanted to see me, so I came down early on purpose. Are you the gentlemen?” “Yes; I sent the message to you. Can I come up to your office?” “Please do, or I’ll come down if you like it better.” Richardson was half-way up the stairs before she had finished speaking, and the girl retreated into the bare little office. She was busy with a duster. “Excuse me, sir. I’m afraid that everything’s covered with dust, but you see it’s only me that uses the room, and I don’t come every day. Now I think that this chair is all right if you’ll sit down.” She was still unembarrassed and smiling. She turned to dust a second chair for Williams.
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