“Very good. Continue.”
“Well, the dog was on the bed, and he looked like he was standing on his hind legs playing with the bell-cord. But the peculiar thing was that his hind legs were on Miss Ada’s face, and she didn’t seem to even notice it. Inwardly I was a bit startled; and I went to the bed and picked up the dog. Then I discovered that several threads of the silk tassel on the end of the cord had got caught between his teeth; and—would you believe it, sir?—it was him who had really rung Miss Ada’s bell. . . .”
“Amazin’,” murmured Vance. “What then, Sproot?”
“I shook the young lady, although I had little hope of waking her after Miss Sibella’s dog had been trampling over her face without her knowing it. Then I came down-stairs and drew the curtains in the reception-room as I had been instructed to do in case of an emergency. When the doctor arrived I showed him to Miss Ada’s room.”
“And that’s all you know?”
“Everything, sir.”
“Thank you, Sproot.” Markham rose impatiently. “And now you might let Doctor Drumm know that we are here.”
It was the nurse, however, who came to the drawing-room a few minutes later. She was a medium-sized well-built woman of thirty-five, with shrewd brown eyes, a thin mouth and a firm chin, and a general air of competency. She greeted Heath with a companionable wave of the hand and bowed to the rest of us with aloof formality.
“Doc Drumm can’t leave his patient just now,” she informed us, seating herself. “So he sent me along. He’ll be down presently.”
“And what’s the report?” Markham was still standing.