"Do you know the combination, Mr. Tremlowe?" asked Geoffrey. "Because if not I can open it for you."
"Thank you, the General deposited the key with me some time ago," replied Mr. Tremlowe, putting on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. He produced a piece of paper from his pocket-book, and advanced towards the safe.
He was checked by Harding's voice. Just one moment, please. Lady Billington-Smith, before Mr. Tremlowe opens the safe, can you tell us what we may expect to find in it?"
Fay withdrew her gaze from the swivel-chair with an effort. "I'm sorry," she said shakily. "What did you say?"
Harding repeated his question. She put up her hand to push the hair off her brow. "I — I don't think I know," she said. "My — my husband never actually showed me. I have an idea he kept certain documents in it, but I'm not really sure."
"Is it likely that there is any money in it, do you think?"
"Yes, quite a wog," replied Miss Fawcett, seeing his sister quite vague on the subject. "Arthur told us he was going to the bank at breakfast on Monday."
"Yes, yes, of course!" Fay said. "It was the first of July wasn't it? I'm sorry to be so stupid, I don't seem to be able to think. My husband invariably paid all the staff and the household books, and any other bills there might be on the first of each month. And there would be money for current expenses too."
"About how much, Lady Billington-Smith? Can you give me any idea?"
She frowned over it, trying to collect her thoughts. "I don't know exactly. About two hundred and fifty pounds. It was usually something like that. Sometimes rather more, sometimes less."