“Say you don’t, Jack, I implore you, and let me apologize for you,” pleaded Hart.
“Doris, this is my good friend, Wally Hart,” smiled Grant. “Won’t you sit down? We have an exciting story for you.”
“Father will be horribly anxious if he knows I have gone out.”
Nevertheless, there was sufficient spice of Mother Eve in Doris that she should take the proffered chair.
“Sorry to interrupt,” broke in Furneaux. “Did you meet P. C. Robinson!”
“No.”
“You came by way of the bridge?”
“There is no other way, unless one makes a detour by Bush Walk.”
The detective whirled round on Grant.
“What room is over this one?”