"I didn't say that," Amberley answered. "There's a difference between the unbalanced and the merely feeble-minded."
Anthony cast a speculative look round him, in search of a likely missile. Joan interposed hastily. "Oh, don't scrap!" she begged. "Is that really what you think, Mr. Amberley?"
There was a twinkle at the back of Amberley's eyes. "You see, I was at school with him," he said gravely.
"A little more of this, dear old boyhood's friend, and I don't help you to solve the great Nettlefold mystery."
"That'd be a blow for the unknown assassin," remarked Amberley. "Seriously, Miss Fountain, my own impression is that young Brown has - or thinks he has — a grudge against someone. Once he's a bit drunk he hasn't a particularly clear idea what it is or whom it's against. For all I know he may have a general hate against capitalism, which is why he raided this place. In any case, I don't honestly think you need be frightened of him." He glanced at his wrist watch. "I must be going. I hope you don't have any more unhinged visitors tonight."
Mr. Corkran saw his chance and pounced on it. "No, two in one evening is a bit steep," he said with immense relish.
Mr. Amberley did not choose the Greythorne Road when he left the manor, but instead turned right, towards Upper Nettlefold. He had not gone very far when his headlights threw into bold relief the figure of a pedestrian wandering somewhat dejectedly along the side of the road. Amberley drew abreast of the figure and pulled up. He leaned across and opened the door of the car and issued a brief command to Mark Brown to get in.
Mark refused petulantly and began to walk on, but when the command was repeated in a distinctly savage tone he gave in weakly and obeyed.
Mr. Amberley seemed disinclined for conversation. Beyond remarking that Mark had made a complete ass of himself he said nothing during the journey to Ivy Cottage. Mark kept up a kind of explanatory mumble, but what little of it reached Amberley's ears above the noise of the engine was neither interesting nor sensible. After a while Mark seemed to realise that no attention was being paid to his involved explanation and relapsed into a sulky silence.
When the car drew up outside Ivy Cottage Mark got out and stalked ahead of Amberley up the garden path. His air of defiant nonchalance was rather spoiled by the uncertainty of his gait.