Il'ya Repin paintings

She flew downstairs. "Bunting," she said a little breathlessly, "the lodger would like you just to lend him the Sun."
Bunting handed it over to her. "I've read it through," he observed. "You can tell him that I don't want it back again."
On her way up she glanced down at the pink sheet. Occupying a third of the space was an irregular drawing, and under it was written, in rather large characters:
"We are glad to be able to present our readers with an authentic reproduction of the footprint of the half-worn rubber sole which was almost certainly worn by The Avenger when he committed his double murder ten days ago."
She went into the sitting-room. To her relief it was empty.
"Kindly put the paper down on the table," came Mr. Sleuth's muffled voice from the upper landing.
She did so. "Yes, sir. And Bunting don't want the paper back again, sir. He says he's read it." And then she hurried out of the room.