Two, as all the world knows, is company, three is none. Mrs.
Bunting put down three sixpences.

"Wait a minute," said Hopkins; "you can't go into the Chamber of
Horrors just yet. But you won't have to wait more than four or
five minutes, Mrs. Bunting. It's this way, you see; our boss is
in there, showing a party round." He lowered his voice. "It's
Sir John Burney--I suppose you know who Sir John Burney is?"

"No," she answered indifferently, "I don't know that I ever heard
of him."

She felt slightly--oh, very sightly--uneasy about Daisy. She
would have liked her stepdaughter to keep well within sight and
sound, but Mr. Sleuth was now taking the girl down to the other
end of the room.

"Well, I hope you never will know him--not in any personal sense,
Mrs. Bunting." The man chuckled. "He's the Commissioner of Police
--the new one--that's what Sir John Burney is. One of the
gentlemen he's showing round our place is the Paris Police boss--
whose job is on all fours, so to speak, with Sir John's. The
Frenchy has brought his daughter with him, and there are several
other ladies. Ladies always likes horrors, Mrs. Bunting; that's
our experience here. 'Oh, take me to the Chamber of Horrors'--
that's what they say the minute they gets into this here building!"

Mrs. Bunting looked at him thoughtfully. It occurred to Mr. Hopkins
that she was very wan and tired; she used to look better in the old
days, when she was still in service, before Bunting married her.