"It may be. Where are you now?'
"I am at the Priory Hill vicarage, about two miles north of Brayle. I am in Mr. Bamham's study."
"Is that the clergyman who's so dead-set against horse-racing?"
Distantly, but still audible, the band-music swayed and jigged:
"Oh, I put my money on a bob-tailed nag, Doo-dah, doo-dah—"
"Has it occurred to you, Captain Drake, that I am waiting for an answer?"
"Madam," Martin said gently, "I can't answer your question as it deserves to be answered, because I don't know. I have a theory, but it may not be right Sir Henry Merrivale," he hoped he could keep his promise, "will ring you in half an hour and explain everything."
"You will regret this, Captain Drake. When I return home, I shall carry a riding-crop. It will be most unpleasant for the first half dozen people I meet inside my gates."
Martin put down the phone and ducked out from under the stairs. Jenny, her wide-spaced blue eyes filled not only with concern, clutched his arms.
"You didn't say anything to insult her?'