Still smiling, Mr. Mapleson opened the door with his latchkey and stepped into Mrs. Tilney's hall. Thenacuriousthingoccurred. Closingthedoor, Mr. Mapleson for a moment stood poised in an atti tude of acute attention. It was not only furtive, itwasalittlecraftytoo. Thenhiseyes,roaming about him, ﬂed down the dingy'hall to where in the dimlightofthesinglegasjetastairwastobe seen. Obviously it led to the kitchen ﬂoor below, fortherearoseiromitnotonlyapotentscentof cookingbutthesoundofashrill.ﬂusteredvoice,a woman's. Evidently its owner reigned in an ad visory capacity over the kitchen's busy doings. At any rate, the voice lifting itself in shriller complaint, the words became intelligible.