“What’s going on there is no business of ours,” he said grimly. “I propose to keep it so.”
Sure enough, presently along came Drinkwater, head down, as though unaware of the open door.
“Hey, there!”
At O’Leary’s call, the elongated figure pulled up abruptly, and Drinkwater’s gipsy face loomed high in the door-frame.
“Yes?” he said, blowing nervously through his nose. “What is it?”
“I say, Drinkwater, better keep away from that end of the hall,” said O’Leary casually. “You see, you might overhear something you oughtn’t to.”
Drinkwater looked around with an excellent simulation of surprise.
“Really?” he said affably. “I wasn’t noticing. Good-night.” With which, smiling, he moved away, and quite casually he reached out and closed the door.
O’Leary, whistling to himself, rose and opened it again, saying sarcastically: