"I was going to ask you the same question," answered Grimes quietly. "What are you doing—there?"
"I'm attending to my duties as Mr. Baxter's secretary," she said coming down the stair and trying not to seem ruffled.
"I see. That's an interesting little door." He pointed to the mezzanine chamber.
"Yes. Are you an architect?"
"No. I'm an officer from Scotland Yard—Mr. Grimes. Just looking around a little while I wait for Mr. Baxter. Don't let me disturb you."
He strolled off toward the conservatory, but turned at one of the French windows. "Oh! May I ask your name?"
Betty glanced up from the code book which she was consulting in nervous haste.
"I told you I am Mr. Baxter's secretary."
"Yes, but—your name?"
The girl drew herself up to her full height and, looking the man straight in the eyes, said simply, "Miss Thompson. Really, Mr. Grimes, you must excuse me now."