body before anything was disturbed by the arrival of gapers or bunglers; how she had pointed out to him that both the windows were firmly bolted to keep out the cold night air; how, having noted this down with a puzzled, pitying shake of the head, he had opened the window to summon the police, and espied in the fog one Denzil Cantercot, whom he called, and told to run to the nearest police-station and ask them to send on an inspector and a surgeon; how they both remained in the room till the police arrived, Grodman pondering deeply the while and making notes every now and again, as fresh points occurred to him, and asking her questions about the poor, weak-headed young man.  Pressed as to what she meant by calling the deceased “weak-headed,” she replied that some of her neighbours wrote him begging letters, though, Heaven knew, they were better off than herself, who had to scrape her fingers to the bone for every penny she earned.  Under further pressure from Mr. Talbot, who was watching the inquiry on behalf of Arthur Constant’s family, Mrs. Drabdump admitted that the deceased had behaved like a human being, nor was there anything externally eccentric or queer in his conduct.  He was always cheerful and pleasant spoken, though certainly soft—­God rest his soul.  No; he never shaved, but wore all the hair that Heaven had given him.

By a JURYMAN:  She thought deceased was in the habit of locking his door when he went to bed.  Of course, she couldn’t say for certain. (Laughter.) There was no need to bolt the door as well.  The bolt slid upwards, and was at the top of the door.  When she first let lodgings, her reasons for which she seemed anxious to publish, there had only been a bolt, but a suspicious lodger, she would not call him a gentleman, had complained that he could not fasten his door behind him, and so she had been put to the expense of having a lock made.  The complaining lodger went off soon after without paying his rent. (Laughter.) She had always known he would.

The CORONER:  Was deceased at all nervous?

WITNESS:  No, he was a very nice gentleman. (A laugh.)

CORONER:  I mean did he seem afraid of being robbed?

WITNESS:  No, he was always goin’ to demonstrations. (Laughter.) I told him to be careful.  I told him I lost a purse with 3s. 2d. myself on Jubilee Day.

Mrs. Drabdump resumed her seat, weeping vaguely.

The CORONER:  Gentlemen, we shall have an opportunity of viewing the room shortly.

The story of the discovery of the body was retold, though more scientifically, by Mr. George Grodman, whose unexpected resurgence into the realm of his early exploits excited as keen a curiosity as the reappearance “for this occasion only” of a retired prima donna.  His book, Criminals I have Caught, passed from the twenty-third to the twenty-fourth edition merely on the strength of it.  Mr. Grodman stated that the body was still warm when he found it.  He thought that death was