"Which one?" inquired Mr. Amberley.
"Colonel Watson. In the drawing room. Must I invite him to lunch?"
Mr. Amberley was at last roused. He sat up and swung his long legs out of the hammock. "I forgive you, Aunt Marion," he said. "It was very nice of you to come and warn me. I shall take my book into the woodshed. On no account ask him to lunch."
Lady Matthews smiled. "I do sympathise, my dear. Of course I do. But not a warning. He has been talking to your uncle for half an hour. The gold standard, you know. So incomprehensible and unsuitable. He came on business. Something very legal, but he wouldn't go. If he had only told Humphrey that he wanted to see you! We have only just discovered it. Not that he said so. It was sheer intuition on my part. Do come, my dear. Be very rude, and then he will not want to stay to lunch."
"All right, I will be. Very rude," said Mr. Amberley, and descended from the hammock.
"So sweet of you, Frank, but perhaps better not," said his aunt dubiously.
The chief constable's manner when Mr. Amberley lounged in through the long window in the drawing room was an admirable mixture of casual surprise and friendly gratification. "Ah, hullo, Amberley!" he said, getting up and shaking hands. "So you are still here! This is a pleasant surprise. How are you?"
"Sunk in apathy," said Mr. Amberley. "Just about half awake. Certainly not more."
This seemed to provide the colonel with the opening he wanted. He laughed and said: "Sunk in apathy! Surely that can't mean bored?"
"Not yet," said Mr. Amberley.