Miss Blow rose, bowed, and left the room. Lord Manton rang the bell.
“Wilkins,” he said to his butler.
“Yes, my lord.”
“You saw that young lady who left the house just now? Very well, if she calls again and I happen to be out, you are to give her breakfast, luncheon, tea or dinner according to the hour of the day. If I happen to be at home you are to stay in the room during the time she is with me, as a chaperone. You understand, Wilkins?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“She doesn’t require a chaperone, but I do. I don’t feel safe when I’m alone with her. And Wilkins, if she brings a corpse along with her, either Dr. O’Grady’s corpse or any other, you will provide proper accommodation for it. Put it on the table in the servants’ hall with a sheet over it, and send out to the garden for flowers—white flowers.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“One thing more, Wilkins; if Sergeant Farrelly or any policeman comes up here from the barracks either to-day or to-morrow and asks to see me, tell him I’m out, and that it won’t be the least use his waiting because I won’t be in before midnight and probably not then.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Wilkins left the room, and Lord Manton, taking the chair in which Miss Blow had been sitting, lit a cigarette. There was a stealthy step on the gravel outside. He looked up and saw Patsy Devlin’s face pressed against the window. He rose, opened the window, and asked Patsy what he wanted.