Ah, this has been a great day for me!"
Bell spoke exultingly, a great light shining in his eyes. And David
sapiently asked no further questions for the present. All that he wanted
to know would come in time. The next move, of course, was to visit the
agent of the property.
A smart, dapper little man, looking absurdly out of place in an
exceedingly spacious office, was quite ready to give every information.
It was certainly true that 218, Brunswick Square, was to be let at an
exceedingly low rent on a repairing lease, and that the owner had a lot
more property in Brighton to be let on the same terms. The lady was
exceedingly rich and eccentric; indeed, by asking such low rents she was
doing her best to seriously diminish her income.
"Do you know the lady at all?" Bell asked.
"Not personally," the agent admitted. "So far as I can tell, the property
came into the present owner's hands some years ago by inheritance. The
property also included a very old house, called Longdean Grange, not far
from Rottingdean, where the lady, Mrs. Henson, lives at present. Nobody
ever goes there, nobody ever visits there, and to keep the place free
from prying visitors a large number of savage dogs are allowed to prowl
about the grounds.
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