"No," he said. "I want you to remind me of it so often that we shall lose count of the number of times. But, before you go upstairs, let me warn you that Dr. Scaife gave our young friend about twenty grains of bromide in one gulp. He may be dozing. If he is, don't wake him."
In a couple of minutes she was back in the library, where Armathwaite was seated with a book and a pipe.
"He's asleep," she whispered.
"I'm glad to hear it. Now, come and sit down. Are you too tired to answer questions?"
"Try me."
"Concerning your change of name—can you explain more definitely how it came about?"
"I told you. It was on account of a legacy."
"But from whom? Who was the Ogilvey who left the money? A relative on your father's side, or your mother's?"
"Dad's, I understood."
"Did you ever hear of anyone named Faulkner?"