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that in her tone which recalled to him searching investigations into his historical and geographical knowledge long ago. ‘I’m afraid,’ he said, ‘I can’t think of anything particularly significant about Keighley.’
    ‘No more there is. What is significant is that Daffodil should last be heard of going from Bradford towards Keighley. Because that, you know, would take him uncommonly near Haworth.’
    ‘Haworth!’ Appleby sat back so abruptly that his elbow almost dug Miss Maidment in the ribs.
    ‘Exactly so. I am glad you see my point.’ And Appleby’s aunt turned to Lady Caroline. ‘John is, of course, accustomed to putting two and two together. It is his profession. And when he brings his mind to bear upon our unfortunate loss – Bodfish’s unfortunate loss–’
    Bodfish raised his hat.
    ‘–he at once asks himself what is peculiar about Daffodil. And the answer is this: that Daffodil is a peculiar horse. A gifted horse. In fact, a queer horse.’
    ‘I cannot agree, dear Miss Appleby,’ said Lady Caroline with dignity, ‘that Daffodil is a queer horse. But gifted , certainly.’
    ‘We will say, then, that Daffodil has unusual powers. And Daffodil disappears. Observe what John does. He will put two and two together if he can. He turns to his files – Scotland Yard, as your dear brother will have told you, is full of files – and seeks for any context in which this disappearance of Daffodil may be placed. In other words: have there been any similar disappearances of queer or gifted horses recently? And if not of horses, then of queer and gifted creatures of any other kind? He makes one significant discovery. Recently, and in this district, a young girl has suddenly and unaccountably disappeared from her home – we all read of it, you know, in the local papers. A gifted and decidedly queer girl. In fact, a witch.’
    Lady Caroline blew. Miss Maidment made a noise as of muted alarm. Appleby merely gaped.
    ‘And this young female of unusual powers lived near Haworth. How impressed, then, was John when he heard that Daffodil had last been seen moving that way!’
    Lady Caroline frowned. ‘This is most peculiar. And certainly above Bodfish’s head.’
    Miss Maidment turned round. ‘Bodfish,’ she said judicially, ‘we do not require your attention longer.’
    Bodfish raised his hat.
    ‘But this,’ continued Miss Appleby placidly, ‘is only the first stage of John’s inquiries. He has consulted his colleagues; assistants have been turning over press cuttings’ – suddenly Miss Appleby opened her bag – ‘as I may say I have been doing myself.’ She paused, and Appleby was momentarily aware of an infinitely ironical glance. ‘John has been particularly struck by the case of Lucy Rideout, a young girl who recently disappeared – having been, as it would seem, procured for immoral purposes.’
    ‘Maidment,’ said Lady Caroline, ‘such things ought not to afford embarrassment at your mature years.’
    ‘Now, about this girl there is something very odd indeed.’ Miss Appleby consulted the first of her cuttings. ‘It appears, as the result of elaborate investigations carried out with great scientific skill by a Superintendent Hudspith, that Lucy Rideout represents a remarkable case of dissociation. She is not so much one person as two – or perhaps three – persons; and she must have been – um – correspondingly difficult to seduce. But seduced she was, having been led to believe, as it appears, that she was to be taken to Capri – a disagreeable resort, but one with romantic associations in the minds of the lower classes.’
    Appleby was looking round-eyed at his aunt – much as Sherlock Holmes must have looked at his brother, the remote and quintessential detective. ‘Capri,’ he said, ‘–to be sure. And did you say dissociation?’
    ‘Yes. What is sometimes called multiple personality.’
    ‘Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde,’ said Lady Caroline. ‘Or consider Miss Maidment.