"Job," responded Neville. "I found some other good bits, too, but unfortunately they aren't quite drawingroom."
"Whoso despiseth the Word," announced Glass, recovering from the shock of having been answered in kind, "shall be destroyed!"
"That'll do!" intervened the Sergeant. "You go and wait for me in the drive, Glass!" He waited until the constable had withdrawn, and then said: "Well, sir, you've told me a very straightforward story, but what I'm asking myself is, why didn't you tell it before?"
"You didn't notice the espalier before," said Neville.
"It might be better for you, sir, if you told the truth about your doings on the night of the murder without waiting to be questioned," suggested the Sergeant, with a touch of severity.
"Oh no! You'd have thought it very fishy if I'd been as expansive as all that," said Neville.
Upon reflection, the Sergeant privately agreed with him. However, all he said was that Neville would be wise not to try to be too clever with the police.
"You may be right," answered Neville, "but your Superintendent said that no good would come of my taking the Press to my bosom, and lots of good came of it. I've got my picture in the papers."
"You have?" said the Sergeant, diverted in spite of himself. "What, you're not going to tell me they went and printed all that International spy stuff?"
"No," replied Neville regretfully. "Not that, but one of the eager brotherhood really thought I was the Boots."