“Allow me,” the doctor said, “to give you a word of advice, Miss Pellissier. A detective will be here in a few moments to make inquiries into this affair. You may have something to conceal, you may not. Tell the whole truth. It always comes out sooner or later. Don’t try to shield anybody or hide anything. It is bad policy.”
Anna smiled very faintly.
“I thank you for your advice,” she said. “I can assure you that it was quite unnecessary. I know less about this affair perhaps than you suppose. What I do know I shall have no hesitation in telling anyone who has the right to ask.”
“Just so,” the doctor remarked drily. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire.”
Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. The doctor nodded to him curtly.
“Good evening, Dorling,” he said. “Before you do anything else I should advise you to secure those charred fragments of paper from the grate. I know nothing about this affair, but some one has been burning documents.”
The detective went down on his hands and knees. With delicate touch he rescued all that was possible of them, and made a careful little parcel. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man.
“Shot through the lungs,” he remarked.
The doctor nodded.