“My master is out,” he said, as he opened the door to find Mr. White standing on the mat.
He was about to close the door again, but the detective planted his foot against the jamb.
“Your master is not out,” he answered. “I saw him come in a minute since. Tell him Mr. White wants to see him.”
Smith’s dignity was superb. “My master may be hin,” he cried, “but ’e told me to say ’e was hout to callers.” The aspirates supplied emphasis.
“Tell him what I say at once,” and Mr. White gave him his best “accessory-after-the-crime” glance.
“I don’t see why I should,” snarled Smith, but the squabble ended when Bruce’s voice was heard—
“Show him in, Smith, but admit nobody else.”
With an air of armed neutrality Smith ushered the representative of Scotland Yard into the library.
“You’re not looking very well, sir,” said White, his round eyes fixed on Bruce with all their power.