At this point, very fortunately, the telephone-bell rang.
“Hullo!” said Roger into the mouth-piece, more loudly than was strictly necessary.
“Hullo!” answered a voice. “Is that Mr. Sheringham?”
“No! He left for Derbyshire early this morning.”
“Oh, come!” chided the voice gently. “Not before eleven o’clock, surely. He wouldn’t go without his breakfast, would he?”
“Who’s speaking?”
“Burgoyne, Daily Courier. Seriously, Sheringham, I’m very relieved that I’ve caught you. Listen!”
Roger listened. As he did so his face gradually cleared and a look of intense excitement began to take the place of the portentous frown he had been wearing.
“No, I’m afraid it’s out of the question, Burgoyne,” he said at length. “I’m just off for a fortnight in Derbyshire with a cousin of mine, as you know. Rooms booked and everything. Otherwise I should have been delighted.”
Expostulatory sounds made themselves heard from the other end of the wire.