He said: “Yes, my lord, certainly,” and looked at Lady Wutherwood who, with her escort, completely blocked the doorway.
“There’s a chair in the passage, nurse,” said Charlot.
Tinkerton said: “Come along now, m’lady,” in a thin voice but with an air of authority. Her mistress leant towards her and with a clumsy lurch turned and went into the passage, still supported by the two women. Charlot shut the door and eyeing her family spread out her hands and shrugged her shoulders.
“What,” she began, “do you suppose—”
But Frid interrupted her. Frid, standing in the centre of the room, urgent, and for once unconsciously dramatic, harangued her family in a sort of impassioned whisper.
“Look here,” she said, “he’s out of the way. What are we going to do? What has Patch said we did in the dining-room?”
“Obviously,” said Henry, “she told the truth.”
“She may have lied like a book.”
“Shall I whizz out and ask her?” Stephen suggested.
“My dear,” said Charlot, “the place is solid with policemen. You’d be arrested.”