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The girl had just arrived at the town where her aunt was living, when to her horror, she found out that her aunt’s address was missing from her handbag. She went to the waiting room of the railway station, sat at a table and emptied the contents of her handbag. Various articles came out and she examined every piece of paper carefully. She was sure that she had put her aunt’s address in her purse together with her railway ticket. She had given the ticket to the railway inspector and it suddenly occurred to her that, the paper the address was on, must have slipped out with the ticket. She didn’t have enough money to stay in a hotel, or to catch the next train back home. She decided to go to a police station and ask for help. The police officer listened to her attentively and asked whether her aunt was in telephone book. She said she wasn’t. then he asked her to try to remember some particular details of her aunt’s address, but she didn’t remember anything. Then he asked her whether she had visited her aunt before, “Yes, I have,” the girl answered, “but that was years ago.” The officer asked whether she would be able to recognize the district where her aunt lived, if he took her around in his car. For, as he explained, the residential part of the town was not very large. They both got into the officer’s car and, as he was about to start, he casually asked her her aunt’s name. On hearing the name, the officer beamed. “Her first name is not Jane, is it?” “Yes, it is,” the girl said, “how do you know?” “Well,” the officer laughed, “you needn’t worry any more. Your aunt is my next door neighbour.”