"Well, my dear, and so you shall," promised Joseph. "When all this stress is over, I'll get you a copy, never fear!"
"Thank you, Joseph, I will get one for myself, without waiting for anything to be over," said Maud, walking away.
The Inspector picked up his hat again. ,Joseph said: "Ah, Inspector! Just off? I mustn't ask you if you've discovered anything, must I? I know you won't keep us in suspense longer than you need."
"Certainly not, sir. I understand I have to congratulate you, by the way."
Joseph winced. "Please don't, Inspector! What has happened isn't in the least what I wanted. But it may all come right yet."
"I hope it may, I'm sure, sir. I'm sorry about Mrs. Herriard's book, and I'm afraid she thinks I ought to bring someone to justice about it."
Joseph smiled wearily. "I think we've all heard enough about that book," he said. "Unfortunately, my wife has a way, which the young people find tiresome, of recounting stray pieces of what she has read. The least said about it the better. She'll soon forget about it."
"For the last time," said Stephen dangerously, "I - did - not — touch — the - book!"
"Very well, old chap, we'll leave it at that," said Joseph in a soothing voice.
The Inspector then left the house, accompanied by Sergeant Ware. During the drive back to the town, he was unusually silent, and the Sergeant, stealing a glance at him, saw that he was frowning. Over a lunch of cold turkey and ham at the Blue Dog, Hemingway continued to frown until the Sergeant ventured to ask him what he thought about the morning's work.