Fernando, standing respectfully before her, shifted from one foot to the other, and his yellow face reddened under her angry gaze.
“Do you understand?” demanded the irate woman, a second time.
“Yes, madam. You wish me to find a certain key in Mr. Meredith’s bedroom.”
Fernando drew a step nearer. “The detective man has one like it.” Mrs. Meredith paled under her rouge. “And you did not get it from him?”
“But have patience, please, madam.” Fernando was taking pains with his English and spoke with care. “It may be difficult, madam.”
“I suppose that means you need a bribe.” Mrs. Meredith unclasped her handbag and handed the servant a gold piece. “Have you anything to report?”
“No, madam,” humbly, then as an afterthought, “Herman tell me that Mr. Armstrong try to see Mees Anne alone.”
Their gaze clashed. Mrs. Meredith was the first to speak.
“Thank you, Fernando. You may go.”
But Fernando did not stir. “Please, madam, will Mees Anne marry the blind doctor?”