“Now, was I the greater fool?” he said aloud. There was an odd, mocking expression in his eyes.
Ten minutes later he pressed the electric button attached to the arm of his chair. His eyes were on his watch which he held in his hand. As the library door opened, he replaced it in his pocket.
“Right to the second,” he laughed. “Ah, Jessop.”
The man who entered was about fifty years of age, or thereabouts, grey-haired, clean-shaven. His face was cast in the rigid lines peculiar to his calling. Possibly they relaxed when with his own kind, but one could not feel certain of the fact.
“Ah, Jessop, do you know Job Grantley by sight?”
For one brief second Jessop stared, amazement fallen upon him. Then the mask of impenetrability was on again.
“Job Grantley, yes, sir.”
“What is he like?”
“Tallish man, sir; wears corduroys. Dark hair and eyes; looks straight at you, sir.”