So he clung to his own rôle and forgot Michael Phelan.
“H’m,” said the invader, reflectively. “That’s very good of you, Officer. Let me offer you this as a slight token of my appreciation.”
His left hand slid into his trousers pocket and brought up a roll of bills. His nonchalance was a perfect mask as he stripped off one of the bills and held it out carelessly to Gladwin.
On his part, Gladwin’s expression was superbly blank as he reached for the bill, pocketed it and said with his purring brogue:
“Thank ye, sorr! And might I ask who ye are?”
“H’m, that’s good,” chuckled the other, now thoroughly master of himself and utterly confident.
“Now, who do you suppose, Officer, would come to the front door––unlock it––walk in and turn up the lights?––a thief?”
“They do sometimes,” said Gladwin, cocking his head to one side with an air of owlish wisdom.
The other raised his eyebrows to express surprise.