“How stupid of me! I’ll fetch them to-morrow. Well?”
She looked at the Prophet with obvious expectation.
“I’m so sorry I can’t tell you,” he replied with gentle firmness.
“Oh, all right,” she rejoined. “But now I’m at a disadvantage. You know I’m Miss Minerva.”
“Yes. But I don’t know why you are, or why you go to Jellybrand’s, or why you rushed into the parlour, or who the old gentleman was that—”
The cab stopped before Mrs. Merillia’s house.
In the hall, upon an oaken bench, they perceived a very broad-brimmed top hat standing on its head. Beside it lay two pieces of a stout and knobbly walking stick which had been broken in half. Lady Enid started violently.
“Good Heavens!” she cried.
She picked up the walking stick, examined it, and laid it down.
“I don’t think I want any tea,” she murmured.