“I am very happy,” he said, “to have brought you such good news.”
Once more the normal aspect of the situation began to reimpose itself upon the two women. They remembered the locked door, the secrecy of their visitor's entrance, and his disordered condition.
“May I ask to whom we are indebted for this great service?” Philippa enquired.
“My name for the present is Hamar Lessingham,” was the suave reply.
“For the present?” Philippa repeated. “You have perhaps, some explanations to make,” she went on, with some hesitation; “the condition of your clothes, your somewhat curious form of entrance?”
“With your permission.”
“One moment,” Helen intervened eagerly. “Is it possible, Mr. Lessingham, that you have seen Major Felstead lately?”
“A matter of fifty-six hours ago, Miss Fairclough. I am happy to tell you that he was looking, under the circumstances, quite reasonably well.”
Helen caught up a photograph from the table by her side, and came over to their visitor's side.
“This was taken just before he went out the first time,” she continued. “Is he anything like that now?”