"
"Certainly," said Holmes, stepping over and turning the key in the door.
"I let you know, then, that I have caught him!"
"What! where?" shouted Mr. Windibank, turning white to his lips, and
glancing about him like a rat in a trap.
"Oh, it won't do--really it won't," said Holmes, suavely. "There is no
possible getting out of it, Mr. Windibank. It is quite too transparent,
and it was a very bad compliment when you said that it was impossible for
me to solve so simple a question. That's right! Sit down, and let us talk
it over."
Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly face, and a glitter of
moisture on his brow. "It--it's not actionable," he stammered.
"I am very much afraid that it is not; but between ourselves, Windibank,
it was as cruel, and selfish, and heartless a trick in a petty way as ever
came before me. Now, let me just run over the course of events, and you
will contradict me if I go wrong."
The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his head sunk upon his breast,
like one who is utterly crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up on the corner of
the mantelpiece, and, leaning back with his hands in his pockets, began
talking, rather to himself, as it seemed, than to us.
"The man married a woman very much older than himself for her money," said
he, "and he enjoyed the use of the money of the daughter as long as she
lived with them.
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