“Of course not,” the barrister assented. He looked very closely at the picture for a minute, and then put it back on the easel. “Well, I must leave it at that; and hope to persuade Mr. Hoyle to part with it when he comes back.”
As he spoke there came a loud knock at the door. He looked at the housekeeper.
“It's all right, sir,” she said composedly. “It is only the baker's man for orders, and my niece will go to the door. She always comes up twice a week to give me a hand with the work. Me not being so young as I might be.”
“We none of us are, ma'am,” the inspector said with a chuckle as he sealed his letter and placed it in a conspicuous place on the writing-table. “Not that you have much to complain about,” he added gallantly as he rose.
The housekeeper smiled complacently as she saw them off to the little garden. The inspector was in an expansive mood and stopped to admire the crocuses as they passed.
“Well?” Mr. Steadman said as they seated themselves in the car before starting.
The inspector waited until they had started before he replied, then he said quietly:
“Well, Mr. Steadman, sir?”
“Well?” the barrister echoed. “I hope you have found what you expected, inspector.”
“I hardly know what I did expect,” the inspector said candidly. “Except that, if matters are as I suspect, Hoyle is certainly not the man to give himself away.”