"Mr. Goodyer, isn't it?" he asked. "Oh, yes, I remember. What is it? You
can speak before this gentleman--it's all right."
"About this affair of last night--Parslett, you know," said Goodyer,
drawing the detective aside, and lowering his voice, so that passers-by
might not hear. "There's something I can tell you--I've heard all about
the matter from Parslett's wife. But I've not told her what I can tell
you, Mr. Ayscough."
"And--what's that?" enquired the detective.
"I'm Parslett's landlord, you know," continued Goodyer. "He's had that
shop and dwelling-house of me for some years. Now, Parslett's not been
doing very well of late, from one cause or another, and to put it in a
nutshell, he owed me half a year's rent. I saw him yesterday, and told him
I must have the money at once: in fact, I pressed him pretty hard about
it.--I'd been at him for two or three weeks, and I could see it was no
good going on. He'd been down in the mouth about it, the last week or so,
but yesterday afternoon he was confident enough. 'Now, you needn't alarm
yourself, Mr. Goodyer,' he said. 'There's a nice bit of money going to be
paid to me tonight, and I'll settle up with you before I stick my head on
the pillow,' he said.
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