I turned to Mr. Sliddim.
"Now I wonder," I said, "if I might have a little quiet conversation with Mr. Rolston."
"By all means," he replied. "I'll wait in the courtyard."
"I shouldn't do that, Mr. Sliddim. Why not take a tour round?"
I led him out of the room into the passage which served for hall, pressed a couple of pounds into his hand and had the satisfaction of seeing him leap away down the stairs like an antelope.
"That's all right," said Rolston. "Now he'll go and get blotto, it's the poor devil's failing. Still, he'll be happy."
I sat down, passed my cigarette case to Rolston, and waited for him to begin.
He sort of came to attention.
"I was rung up, Sir Thomas, at your flat—at least your valet was—and told to come to the office of the Evening Special at once."
"I know, go on."