They sat still as she went out. Harry refolded his napkin and slowly rose to his feet. "I should have liked it better after dinner," he observed.
Mina and Mr Neeld sat on.
"Are we to dine?" whispered Neeld. There is the body, after all.
"Oh, yes, sir," came in Mason's soothing tones over his shoulder. "We never waited for her late Ladyship." And he handed soup.
"Really Mason is rather a comfort," thought Mr Neeld. The Imp drank a glass of champagne.
XXIX
The Curmudgeon
In his most business-like tones, with no more gesture than a pointing of his finger now and then, or an occasional wave of his hand, Harry detailed the circumstances. He was methodical and accurate; he might have been opening a case in the law-courts, and would have earned a compliment on his lucidity. There was something ludicrous in this treatment of the matter, but he remained very grave, although quite unemotional.