Still, I have often thought how easy it would be for a thief or a pickpocket or some other dreadful creature of that kind, don't you know, to make a snatch and--in fact, the thing has actually happened.

Why, I knew a lady--Mrs.Moggridge, you know, Juliet--no, it wasn't Mrs.
Moggridge, that was another affair, it was Mrs .-- Mrs .-- dear me, how silly of me!--now, what was her name?
Can't you help me, Juliet?
You must surely remember the woman.

She used to visit a good deal at the Hawley-Johnsons'-- I think it was the Hawley-Johnsons', or else it was those people, you know--" "Hadn't you better give Dr.Thorndyke the 'Thumbograph' ?" interrupted Miss Gibson.
"Why, of course, Juliet, dear.

What else did we come here for ?" With a slightly injured expression, Mrs.Hornby opened the little bag and commenced, with the utmost deliberation, to turn out its contents on to the table.

These included a laced handkerchief, a purse, a card-case, a visiting list, a packet of _papier poudre_, and when she had laid the last-mentioned article on the table, she paused abruptly and gazed into Miss Gibson's face with the air of one who has made a startling discovery.
"I remember the woman's name," she said in an impressive voice.