"Of course not. But don't disturb-"
"Hop it, Potter," said Masters. When the inspector's heavy footfalls had died away he gestured towards a chair and stared at the girl again. "Will you sit down, Miss? I've made a good many fool omissions in this case, and I admit it, but this comes pretty close to the limit. Miss Carewe didn't go out at all last night, did she? Neither did you. Finding men's damp boots won't mean anything. But if we find anything else. "
There was a growl from behind him. "Stand out of the light, will you?" protested H. M. "Don't obstruct the witness, dammit. Every time a man asks a rational question around here, you go up in the air. Humph. I say, look here! You are a good-looking-nymph, burn me if you're not!"
He lumbered to his feet as Masters moved aside, and a genuine admiration showed in his dull face. Bennett noticed now that he was wearing a vast overcoat with a moth-eaten fur collar, its pockets stuffed with Christmas packages tied in gaudy ribbon.
"Oh, and you're here too?" he added, his expression changing as he saw Bennett. "It seems like you started a hare, son. And now all you want me to do is catch it for you.”
Now, now, there's no need to be upset, Miss Bohun. Just wait till the old man gets to work. Point is Masters there hasn't got any tact. Sit down, everybody, and be comfortable."
"It occurs to me," said Masters, "that… what the devil's the matter with you, Potter?"
The chief inspector's own nerves were growing jumpy. But he had reason for it. Potter had not meant to bang the door when he came back into the room. But it echoed with a dull crash across the vault of the library, where the fire was dying now.
"Excuse me, sir," said Potter heavily, "but will you come here a moment?"
"Well?" demanded Masters. For a moment he seemed incapable of getting up. "Not more-?"