It was a sharp, insistent knock,
and before she could call out "Come in," the door opened, and a
singular-looking figure advanced into the luxurious-looking,
low-ceilinged bedroom.
"Excuse me coming up like this, Modam. But I'm afraid of losing my
train."
The speaker was small and stout, with a sallow face which might once have
held a certain gipsy-like charm, for, in the candlelight, the luminous
dark eyes were by far its most arresting feature. She wore a small,
old-fashioned-looking, red velvet bonnet perched on her elaborately
dressed hair.
Enid Crofton looked at her odd-looking visitor with astonishment. Who on
earth could this be? Certainly not Piper's wife. A feeling of intense
relief came over her when the strange-looking woman came towards her
with a soft, gliding step, and handed her a card on which was written:
Madame Flora
Ladies' wardrobes, gold teeth, and old jewellery purchased at the
highest prices known in the trade
"I do 'ope you will excuse me coming up like this," she said again, and
her queer Cockney voice sounded quite pleasantly in Enid Crofton's ears.
"I've not got very long, and I've been 'ere since four o'clock.
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