Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "What can she possibly know?" he demanded irritably.
"That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her," said Agnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I am sorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver."
"Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noel didn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does."
"You might have a more respectable tenant," said Agnes scathingly.
"Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round.
"I do, and I have every reason to say so."
"Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine's secretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged him unless he was respectable, although he did start life as a pauper toymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at your narrowness."
"Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished that letter?"
"There you are." Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me to address the envelope?"
"Yes, I do," Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add a postscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look for Gentilla Stanley if he chooses."