"You needn't be afraid of his talking," I said. "He's as close as an oyster; and the facts may mean more to him than they do to us. He may be able to give a useful hint or two."
"Oh, I'm not going to pick his brains," Mr. Bellingham said quickly and with some wrath. "I'm not the sort of man who goes round cadging for free professional advice. Understand that, Doctor."
"I do," I answered hastily. "That wasn't what I meant at all. Is that
Miss Bellingham coming in? I heard the front door shut."
"Yes, that will be my girl, I expect; but don't run away. You're not afraid of her, are you?" he added as I hurriedly picked up my hat.
"I'm not sure that I'm not," I answered. "She is rather a majestic young lady."
Mr. Bellingham chuckled and smothered a yawn, and at that moment his daughter entered the room; and, in spite of her shabby black dress and a shabbier handbag that she carried, I thought her appearance and manner fully justified my description.
"You come in, Miss Bellingham," I said as she shook my hand with cool civility, "to find your father yawning and me taking my departure. So I have my uses, you see. My conversation is the infallible cure for insomnia."
Miss Bellingham smiled. "I believe I am driving you away," she said.
"Not at all," I replied hastily. "My mission was accomplished, that was all."
"Sit down for a few moments, Doctor," urged Mr. Bellingham, "and let Ruth sample the remedy. She will be affronted if you run away as soon as she comes in."