He had not long to wait. Stephen appeared a moment or two later. In spite of her professed indifference, Paula pounced on him at once, and demanded to know what Blyth had said.
He lifted one eyebrow at the Inspector. "Taken Scotland Yard into your confidence?"
"What the hell does it matter?" she said impatiently.
"That's right," interjected Hemingway. "You don't want to make a stranger out of me, sir."
"I should find it difficult, shouldn't I?" said Stephen. "You're getting to be quite like one of the family. You remind me of a broker's man."
"Ah, I wouldn't know anything about them!" Hemingway retorted, not in the least resentful of this insult. "I've never had one on my premises. They don't like you to in my profession."
Stephen grinned. "You win that round, Inspector, on points."
Paula shook his arm. "Oh, do shut up! What did Blyth say?"
"Refrain from mauling me about. Under the new circumstances I appear to be the only loser."
"Do you mean Uncle Joseph doesn't pouch the lot?" she asked incredulously.