Francisco de Zurbaran paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
Just now Ellen and Daisy were down in the kitchen, and Bunting didn't quite like the sensation of knowing that there was only one pair of stairs between Mr. Sleuth and himself. So he quietly slipped out of the house without telling Ellen that he was going out.
In the last four days Bunting had avoided his usual haunts; above all, he had avoided even passing the time of day to his acquaintances and neighbours. He feared, with a great fear, that they would talk to him of a subject which, because it filled his mind to the exclusion of all else, might make him betray the knowledge - no, not knowledge, rather the - the suspicion - that dwelt within him.
But to-day the unfortunate man had a curious, instinctive longing for human companionship - companionship, that is, other than that of his wife and of his daughter.
This longing for a change of company finally led him into a small, populous thoroughfare hard by the Edgeware Road. There were more people there than usual just now, for the housewives of the neighbourhood were doing their Saturday marketing for Sunday. The ex-butler turned into a small old-fashioned shop where he generally bought his tobacco.
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