Reaching West's abode he stopped the motor and descended. West was not in and he decided to wait for him, chafing at the delay.
Standing at the window, he presently saw the man coming up the path. He moved slowly, with a certain heaviness, as though weary.
As he opened the outer door, Babbacombe opened the inner and met him in the hall.
"I dropped in to have a word with you," he said.
West paused momentarily before shutting the door. His face was in shadow.
"I thought so," he said. "I saw the motor."
Babbacombe turned back into the room. He was grappling with the hardest task he had ever had to tackle. West followed him in absolute silence.
With an immense effort, Babbacombe spoke:
"I was at the bank just now. I went to get some cash. I was told that my account was overdrawn. I can't understand it. There seems to have been some mistake."
He paused, but West said nothing whatever. The light was beginning to fail, but his expressionless face was clearly visible. It held neither curiosity nor dismay.