"No, of course I don't. I'm not an American!" protested Harding.
"Oh, is it only American detectives who do? I didn't know, but in films they always have hidden badges, and I was wondering whether it was correct. Whoa, that's the shop, just over there."
Ten minutes later, outside the police station, Harding was resolutely avoiding the Sergeant's eye. The Sergeant surveyed him with mingled pain and disapproval, and clambered in amongst the dress-boxes in the dickey. There was no doubt about it, the Inspector was taking a lot of interest in that Miss Fawcett. It wasn't what the Sergeant had expected of an inspector from Scotland Yard, and while he hadn't got anything against the young lady, at the same time it didn't seem to him the right thing at all.
Such considerations did not appear to weigh with Inspector Harding, and the Sergeant, as he carefully balanced one of the boxes on his knees, was grieved to hear him assure Miss Fawcett that it did not matter if Mr. Tremlowe arrived at the Grange before he did.
Then Harding started the car again, and the Sergeant heard no more. He was able, however, to study Miss Fawcett's charming profile, every time she turned her head to speak to Harding, and from time to time he had a fleeting glimpse of Harding's face as well, as the Inspector glanced down at his lively companion. It seemed to the Sergeant that they were hitting it off a fair treat.
He was quite right. Miss Fawcett, never one to be afflicted by shyness, was talking to the Inspector about himself.
"If it weren't for the general grisliness of the whole business," she remarked confidentially, "I think I should rather enjoy seeing a real sleuth at work. It's quite an eye-opener, because till yesterday I'd only met one detective in all my life. He was a man they sent up from the police station when a burglar broke into our flat in town, and pinched a brooch of my mother's, and a couple of plated entree-dishes. He was definitely sub-human. The detective, I mean. I don't mind telling you that I was rather hostile about you before arrived."
"You didn't show it," said Harding. "I thought were very charming, and most efficient."
"Well, of course I saw you weren't in the least noisome as soon as I set eyes on you," replied Dinah candidly. "As a matter of fact, I never should have guessed you were a detective if I hadn't been told."
"I wasn't always," explained Harding.