“Now what about the third brother—Ernest, I think his name is?”
A faint expression of contempt crossed Stenness’s face at the mention of Ernest’s name.
“He’s not like his brothers.”
Then the disdain of the efficient man for his inefficient fellow broke out.
“He seems never to have done anything, so far as I know. His brothers kept him going. He spends his time loafing about: fishing, shooting, or just hanging round. It was his fishing, as a matter of fact, that led to the row with Dr. Ardsley.”
Sir Clinton leaned forward in his chair and looked at the secretary keenly.
“All this is very interesting, Mr. Stenness; but I have an idea that there’s something in your mind that you haven’t told us. What is it?”
The Secretary gave him look for look before replying.
“I don’t think this is a local affair at all. The evidence points away from that, entirely.”
“Ah! Now this is what I really wanted, Mr. Stenness.”