door one; and alert to this possibility, he hastened back into the hall
to look for her. But she was nowhere visible, nor had she been observed
leaving the building by the man stationed at entrance A. But there was
another exit, that of B. Had she gone out that way? Mr. Ransom had taken
pains to inquire and had been assured by the man in charge that no
lady had left by that door during the last ten minutes. This he had
insisted on, and when Mr. Loomis and the detective came in their turn
to question him on this point he insisted on it again. The mystery seemed
complete,--at least to the manager. But the detective was not quite
satisfied. He asked the man if at any time that day, before or after Mrs.
Ransom's disappearance, he had swung the door open for a lady who walked
lame. The answer was decisive. "Yes; one who walked as if her shoes were
tight."

"When?"

"Oh a little while after the gentleman asked his questions."

"Was she dressed in brown?"

That he didn't know. He didn't look at ladies' dresses unless they were
something special.

"But she walked lame and she came from Room 3?"

Yes. He remembered that much.

Gerridge, with a nod to the manager, stepped into the open compartment of
the whirling door. "I'm off," said he. "Expect to hear from me in two
hours."