"So you might describe me," said Holmes cheerfully. "My
companion is also a dangerous ruffian. And together we are going
through your house."

Our opponent opened the door.

"Fetch a policeman, Annie!" said he. There was a whisk of
feminine skirts down the passage, and the hall door was opened
and shut.

"Our time is limited, Watson," said Holmes. "If you try to stop
us, Peters, you will most certainly get hurt. Where is that
coffin which was brought into your house?"

"What do you want with the coffin? It is in use. There is a
body in it."

"I must see the body."

"Never with my consent."

"Then without it." With a quick movement Holmes pushed the
fellow to one side and passed into the hall. A door half opened
stood immediately before us. We entered. It was the dining-
room. On the table, under a half-lit chandelier, the coffin was
lying. Holmes turned up the gas and raised the lid. Deep down
in the recesses of the coffin lay an emaciated figure. The glare
from the lights above beat down upon an aged and withered face.
By no possible process of cruelty, starvation, or disease could
this wornout wreck be the still beautiful Lady Frances. Holmes's