Greeting her with pardonable abruptness, I expressed my wishes in
these possibly alarming words:
"Jinny, you can do something for me. Find out - I know you can,
and that, too, without arousing suspicion or compromising either of
us - where Mr. Moore, of Waverley Avenue, buys his groceries, and
when you have done that, whether or not he has lately resupplied
himself with candles."
The surprise which she showed had a touch of naivete in it which
was very encouraging.
"Mr. Moore?" she cried, "the uncle of her who - who -"
"The very same," I responded, and waited for her questions without
adding a single word in way of explanation.
She gave me a look - oh, what a look! It was as encouraging to the
detective as it was welcome to the lover; after which she nodded,
once in doubt, once in question and once in frank and laughing
consent, and darted off.
I thanked Providence for such a self-contained little aide-decamp
and proceeded on my way, in a state of great self-satisfaction.
An hour later I came upon her again. It is really extraordinary
how frequently the paths of some people cross.
"Well?" I asked.
"Mr. Moore deals with Simpkins, just two blocks away from his house;
and only a week ago he bought some candles there."
I rewarded her with a smile which summoned into view the most
exasperating of dimples.
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