“Will you wait in the living-room, miss? Mr. Derrick is working in the study.”
“Thanks, I’ll wait here.”
Perkins tapped at the study door.
“Miss Millicent, sir.”
Derrick put down his pen. “Miss Millicent,” he repeated puzzled.
“She is waiting in the hall and would like to see you. She asked for Miss Derrick first, but Miss Derrick is out.”
He got up, his pulse beating hard, and came quickly into the hall. They glanced at each other, these two, drawn thus together by the shadow of a crime. Instinctively she held out her hand, feeling for a strange moment almost as though no introduction was necessary.
“How do you do, Miss Millicent? My sister will be very sorry to miss you. Will you come into the living-room or”—he hesitated an instant—“the study?”
“I won’t keep you a moment,” she said a little nervously. “Are you working in the study?”
He nodded, smiling. “I think it’s a wonderful room. Please come in.”