"Yes, but I want to watch what they're doing!" Vicky demurred.
"No, go up to the house," Hugh said. "I'll join you later - when I've discovered what all this is about."
"Not even a fusty lawyer can just carelessly fling orders at me," said Vicky, as one imparting valuable information.
"That's all right, ducky: you can play at being the child-wife married to a drunken bully," suggested Hugh.
This immediately caught Vicky's ever-lively imagination. "Yes, or a Roman slave."
"Or a Roman slave," agreed Hugh, giving the end of the handkerchief into her hold.
From the opposite side of the pool, Inspector Hemingway watched Miss Fanshawe's departure with undisguised relief. When, however, he saw that Mr. Hugh Dering, instead of accompanying her, was walking on towards a point where the stream could be jumped, his satisfaction waned swiftly. He called: "Now, look here, sir, I'm busy, and I can't have you messing about here now!"
Hugh cleared the stream, and walked towards him. "Can't you?" he said. "Well, of course, if you won't have me on this side of the stream, I'll go back and watch you from the other side. I dare say Miss Fanshawe and her mother would like to come and watch, too, though of course I can't promise that they won't bring the dogs with them."
Sergeant Wake bent a shocked stare upon him. Hemingway said: "Oh! Nice state of affairs, I must say, if the police are to be blackmailed by gentlemen of your profession, sir! Now, you know very well you've no right to come meddling here!"
"Don't worry, I won't meddle. But all this earnest search leads me to suppose that new and startling evidence has cropped up. Moreover, you are holding in your hand, Inspector, something that bears all the appearance of a vice. From which I deduce that, contrary to expectations, the rifle found here was not fired by hand. Correct me if I'm wrong, my dear Watson."