Then, with a cry of triumph, he stooped down and picked something up from a crack in the flagged stones.
"The key!" he cried.

"Come on, quick!" He thrust it into the lock and turned it; the door swung smoothly open.
The policeman laid his hand upon Tavernake's shoulder.
"Look here," he said, "let's have that story of yours again, a little more clearly.

Who is it that's in this house ?" "Five minutes ago," Tavernake began, speaking rapidly, "I met a man in the Strand whom I know slightly--Pritchard, an American detective.

He said that he had something to say to me and he asked me to walk round with him to a club in this Terrace.

We were in the middle of the road there, talking, when a man sprang at him; he must have come up behind quite noiselessly.