"Mademoiselle has also a tiny mole behind her right ear," said
Stenson.
The Inspector's conception of Stenson expanded into an
apotheosis. He paid him deference. His pen wrote greedily every
syllable the inspired creature uttered. When the fount of
inspiration ran dry, Stenson turned to me with his imperturbable,
profoundly respectful air.
"Shall I return home, Sir Marcus, or have you any further need of
my service?"
I bade him go home. He withdrew. The Inspector smiled
cheerfully. "Now we can get along," said he. "It's a pity Mr.
--Mr. Pasquale" (he consulted his notes) "is out of touch with us
for the moment. He might have given us great assistance."
He rose from his chair. "I think we shall very soon trace the
young lady. An accurate personal description like this, you see,
is invaluable."
He handed me the printed form which he had filled in. In spite
of my misery I almost laughed at the fatuity of the man in
thinking that those mere unimaginative statistics applicable to
five hundred thousand young females in London, could in any way
express Carlotta.
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