“I didn’t even beat him up. In fact, I behaved most generously to him,” he said quietly. “I was not with him more than five minutes, in a darkened room, the only light being a lantern which was on the table. And I guess that’s about all I can tell you, Inspector.”
“Sergeant,” murmured Elk. “It’s curious the number of people who think I’m an Inspector.”
There was an awkward pause. Elk could think of no other questions he wanted to ask, and his host displayed as little inclination to advance any further statement.
“Neighbour friends of yours?” asked Elk, and jerked his head toward the passage.
“Who—Bassano and her friend? No. Are you after them?” he asked quickly.
Elk shook his head.
“Making a friendly call,” he said. “Just that. I’ve just come back from your country, Mr. Broad. A good country, but too full of distances.”
He ruminated, looking down at the carpet for a long time, and presently he said:
“I’d like to meet that friend of yours, Mr. Broad—American?”
Broad shook his head. Not a word was spoken as they went up the passage to the front door, and it almost seemed as if Elk was going without saying good-bye, for he walked out absent-mindedly, and only turned as though the question of any farewell had occurred to him.