Jimmy began pacing the room.
"I remember him well," he said darkly, after a moment. "Big chap with a brown moustache—pots of money." He walked the length of the room again. "Christine ought not to encourage him," he burst out presently. "What on earth must people think, as I'm not there."
"I don't see any harm," Sangster began mildly.
Jimmy rounded on him:
"You—you wouldn't see harm in anything; but Christine's a very attractive little thing, and——" He broke off, flushing dully. "Anyway, I won't have it," he added snappily.
"I don't see how you're going to stop it, unless——"
"Unless what?"
"Unless you go down there." Sangster spoke deliberately now. In spite of his calm assertion that there was no harm in Kettering's visit to Upton House, his anxious eyes had noticed the indefinable something in Kettering's manner towards Christine that had struck Gladys Leighton that first evening. Sangster knew men well, and he knew, without any plainer signs or telling, that it was not the house itself that took Kettering there so often, but the little mistress of the house, with her sweet eyes and her pathetic little smile.
He got up and laid a hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he spoke.
"Why not go down yourself?" he said casually.