“One moment, Inspector,” interrupted Paul Harley, “you have not warned Mr. Camber.”
Thereupon the long-repressed wrath of Inspector Aylesbury burst forth.
“Then I will warn you, sir!” he shouted. “One more word and you leave this house.”
“Yet I am going to venture on one more word,” continued Harley, unperturbed. He turned to Colin Camber. “I happen to be a member of the Bar, Mr. Camber,” he said, “although I rarely accept a brief. Have I your authority to act for you?”
“I am grateful, Mr. Harley, and I leave this unpleasant affair in your hands with every confidence.”
Camber stood up, bowing formally.
The expression upon the inflamed face of Inspector Aylesbury was really indescribable, and recognizing his mental limitations, I was almost tempted to feel sorry for him. However, he did not lack self-confidence, and:
“I suppose you have scored, Mr. Harley,” he said, a certain hoarseness perceptible in his voice, “but I know my duty and I am not afraid to perform it. Now, Mr. Camber, did you, or did you not, at about twelve o’clock last night——”
“Warn the accused,” murmured Harley.
Inspector Aylesbury uttered a choking sound, but: