The murder was out.
Berry whipped out his watch.
"Nine o'clock," he announced. "We can do nothing to-night. And that sweep Vandy's got a long lead. We haven't a moment to lose. Who are the agents for The Lawn?"
"It's on the board," said I, "and I've read it a thousand times, but I'm hanged if I can remember whether it's Miller of Brooch, or a London firm."
"Slip over there the first thing in the morning," said Jonah. "If it's Miller, so much the better. You can go straight on to Brooch. If it's a London man—well, there's always the telephone."
"I hope to heaven," said Daphne, "it's—it's still for sale."
"Vandy's got Scotch blood in him," said Berry. "He won't lay out fifteen hundred or so without looking round."
"More like three thousand," said Jonah.
"It's a lot of money to risk," said Daphne slowly.
"Yes," said Adèle anxiously. "I feel that. I know it's your affair, but, if it hadn't been for my dream, this would never have happened. And supposing there's nothing in it.... I mean, it would be dreadful to think you'd thrown away all that money and gotten nothing in exchange. And they always say that dreams are contrary."