“Why, has anything happened?”
“No, but something may, and I want to be ready, in case.”
“I don’t understand, Jack. What do you anticipate?”
“Well, our friend has an odd idea that he may be able to suggest something that would help in the Millicent matter in the way of a clue if he could see the place where it happened. So I’m having him in here shortly with Martin, who doesn’t seem to fancy the visit at all. The sergeant won’t be in evidence, and they know nothing about him.”
“Oh!” she said slowly, “can I do anything except keep out of the way? I’ve an idea that’s what you want me to do.”
Derrick laughed. “It is, exactly. There’s one other thing. I’d like to see Perkins for a minute before the others come.”
Edith got up. “Then finish your tea, and I’ll send her in for the tray. She’s been even more queer than usual to-day, so I fancy she knows that man is here. Good luck to you, brother, and I’m so glad I know what you’re working for.” She bent over, kissed him impulsively, and went out.
He sat motionless for a moment, vibrant with the knowledge that he was playing for great stakes. Martin—the peddler—Perkins—the jade god—all intervened between him and the goal of his desire. At that his nerves seemed slowly to be turned to steel.
The door opened. Perkins came in and busied herself with the tray, and for the first time he noted that her fingers were trembling. Something of the transitory pity he had felt for Martin came over him, and he made a gesture toward a chair.
“Please sit down a minute, Perkins. I want to ask you something.”