“Not at the moment. The room has been locked up. There’s no hurry.”
“Oh, isn’t Ray just too wonderful?” said Aubrey, awed. “So unmoved-and-all! I can’t think how you preserve your exquisite calm, Ray, really I can’t! My nervous system is definitely shattered.”
“Then it’s just as well mine isn’t,” Raymond replied, getting up from the table, and moving towards the door. “One of you had better go down to the Dower House to tell Ingram what has happened. I must go into Liskeard, to have a word with Cliff.”
He opened the door as he spoke, just in time to admit Ingram himself, who came limping into the room, rather out of breath, and with a countenance expressive both of surprise and indignation.
“I suppose it didn’t occur to you that I might like to be informed of Father’s death!” he said hotly, glaring at Raymond. “I might have expected you to leave me to hear of it through a servant! A fair sample of what we may expect to have to put up with now that you’re mounted in the saddle!”
“I’ve had no time so far to think about you,” Raymond answered, his voice as cold as Ingram’s was heated. “If it comforts you at all, I’ve just this instant told the others to let you know.”
“Damned kind of you! How did it happen? When was it?”
"You can get the details from Char: I’ve got something more important to attend to,” Raymond responded briefly, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Yes, it’s going to be jolly with him in the seat!” Ingram said, with a short laugh. “By Jove, though, the old man! I never was more surprised in my life, never! Thought he’d go on for years yet! Frightful shock to me!”
“Ah, and that’s not the worst of it!” Clara said. “They’re sayin’ your father was poisoned, Ingram!”