“Couldn’t do that the last time we were here. No, the upkeep is not as good. Condition fair, I should say, at the most. See for yourself.”
Dawkins sniffed and investigated. “Perhaps you’re right. I suppose my client is a little short of help. All right, ‘condition fair.’ Anything else?”
Mr. Jarrad glanced at the hearth. “Yes, one thing. One fireplace tile split. You have no note of that, I think, and it’s the only real damage we’ve seen.”
“No, I’ve nothing here. Let me see it.”
He was bending over the hearth when Derrick came in. Jarrad made his well-known bow.
“We have just completed this room, sir, and the only real dilapidation we find is in this hearth. It’s a small matter, but nothing is too small for us to note. Perhaps you may remember when it happened, as it’s evidently quite recent.”
Derrick stared at the cracked tile.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “I remember that very distinctly.”
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