For the Companion
The Detective's Story
Queer, homey little romances come sometimes under the eye of the detective.
“One day I was called to a house in Russel Square to carry off a girl who had stolen a small diamond ring and a few other things.
“I shall never forget the bewildered look of the pretty little thing,—for she had a face as innocent as a babe’s. It made my heart ache, when I thought of my own daughter, about the age of this one.
“‘O, sir,’ she cried, in terror, ‘they say I have stolen these things, when I never saw them in my life. What does it mean, sir? O, what are they going to do to me?’
“Now, in my time, I have seen the pretence of innocence in every form that hypocrisy can shape, and for a time I was not disposed to credit the girl’s distress. But there was another servant there, a sleek-faced, smooth-haired creature, whose caliber I took in at a glance.