The Sergeant opened the door for Francis to pass out, and shut it carefully behind him. He waited for several seconds before he spoke, as though to be sure that Francis was out of earshot, and then he said emphatically: "That's the queerest story we've heard yet, sir and we haven't half heard some fishy ones. Him take two hours to cover forty miles? Yes, I wish I may live to see it. That's all I say, sir, I wish I may live to see it!"
"All right, Sergeant. We'll talk it over while we have lunch."
"Yes, sir," said the Sergeant, still brooding. "What's more, I don't believe he had a puncture nor a dirty jet either."
"Well, you'll be able to verify that," said Harding. "I'm going to send you off to Bramhurst this afternoon. Nor, let's go back to Ralton and have lunch."
Lunch at the Grange was a somewhat constrained meal. The presence of Mr. Lewis, whom Lola had commanded to remain, made it impossible for Geoffrey to tell his cousin that he believed not one word of his story, and even prevented Camilla from indulging in her usual free-spoken recapitulation of all that she had felt since she had heard of poor Sir Arthur's murder. Fay did not appear in the dining-room at all; Dinah was wrestling with inward giggles; Mr. Tremlowe ate and drank in almost complete silence, occasionally casting a cold and disapproving glance at the voluble Mr. Lewis; Halliday confined his conversation to an exchange of views on Disarmament with Stephen Guest; and Francis laid himself out to annoy every one by being extremely agreeable to Mr. Lewis.
Lola, who was still wearing the trailing black frock, and had brushed her hair in two sleek wings framing her face, seemed to be satisfied with the result of Mr. Lewis's visit. "It is seen that my picture must not go into the papers," she announced. "I am very reasonable, and I do not make further objection."
Mr. Lewis patted her hand. "That's a good girl," he approved. "You trust Sam's judgment, and you'll never go wrong.
"If I did not trust you, I should not any longer permit you to arrange my affairs," said Lola. "And that reminds me that after lunch you must tell this Inspector, who is, I think, not altogether a fool, that I will not be arrested for murdering Sir Arthur, since it is not after all good publicity, but on the contrary, very bad. Besides," she added thoughtfully, "you would not like me to be arrested, would you, Geoffrey?"
"I don't mind what you do," said Geoffrey. "I mean, no, of course I don't want you to be arrested, but it's your own affair, not mine."
"But certainly it is your affair, my dear Geoffrey," said Lola. "And you must let me tell you that I have been very patient, because I have much sympathy, but it becomes absurd, the way you are behaving."