“I do not think so; of course it was Miss Merton who started it. He quite believes that she took copies of all the work she did here, but he was so pleased with himself at the idea of having found her out, that he has troubled very little about it. He seems to think that she had not reached the most important part of his work, and he is copying that himself now by hand.”
“But outside the house has he no suspicions at all?”
“Not that I know of; not any definite suspicion. He was talking last night of Duchesne, the great spy and adventurer, in a rambling sort of way. ‘Duchesne would be the man to get hold of my work if he knew of it,’ he kept on saying. ‘But none must know of it! The newspapers must be quiet! It is a terrible danger!’ He talked like that for some time. No, I do not think that he suspects anybody. It is more a general uneasiness.”
“Poor old chap!” Wolfenden said softly. “What does Dr. Whitlett think of him? Has he seen him lately? I wonder if there is any chance of his getting over it?”
“None at all,” she answered. “Dr. Whitlett is quite frank; he will never recover what he has lost—he will probably lose more. But come, there is the dressing bell. You will see him for yourself at dinner. Whatever you do don’t be late—he hates any one to be a minute behind time.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK
Wolfenden was careful to reach the hall before the dinner gong had sounded. His father greeted him warmly, and Wolfenden was surprised to see so little outward change in him. He was carefully dressed, well groomed in every respect, and he wore a delicate orchid in his button-hole.