For a moment it appeared to be a toss up as to whether Lord Nasby had apoplexy or not. In the end, he swallowed twice and got over it.
“I admire your coolness, young woman. Well, you see me! If you interest me, you will continue to see me for exactly two minutes longer.”
“That will be ample,” I replied. “And I shall interest you. It’s the Mill House Mystery.”
“If you’ve found ‘The Man in the Brown Suit,’ write to the Editor,” he interrupted hastily.
“If you will interrupt, I shall be more than two minutes,” I said sternly. “I haven’t found ‘The Man in the Brown Suit,’ but I’m quite likely to do so.”
In as few words as possible I put the facts of the Tube accident and the conclusions I had drawn from them before him. When I had finished he said unexpectedly:
“What do you know of brachycephalic heads?”
I mentioned Papa.
“The Monkey man? Eh? Well, you seem to have a head of some kind upon your own shoulders, young woman. But it’s all pretty thin, you know. Not much to go upon. And no use to us—as it stands.”
“I’m perfectly aware of that.”