"We hear at the Lion" Kelson remarked, "that the brother, Gervase
Henshaw, is returning to-morrow or next day."
Morriston did not receive the news with any appearance of satisfaction. "I hope he won't come fussing about here," he said, with a touch of protest. "Making every allowance for the sudden shock under which he was labouring I thought his attitude the other day most objectionable, didn't you?"
"I did most certainly," Gifford answered promptly.
"His manners struck me as deplorable," Kelson agreed.
"Yes," their host continued. "It never seemed to occur to the fellow that some little sympathy was due also to us. But he seemed rather to suggest that the tragedy was our fault. In ordinary circumstances I should have dealt pretty shortly with him. But it was not worth while."
"No," Kelson observed, "All the same, you need not allow a continuation of his behaviour."
"I don't intend to," Morriston replied with decision. "I hope the man won't want to come ferreting in the place; that may well be left to the police; but if he does I can't very well refuse him leave. He must be free of the house, or at any rate of the tower."
"Or," put in Kelson, "he'll have a grievance against you, and accuse you of trying to burk the mystery."
"Is he a very objectionable person?" Miss Morriston asked. "We passed one another in the hall as he left the house and I received what seemed a rather unmannerly stare."
Her brother laughed. "My dear Edith, the type of man you would simply loathe. Abnormally, unpleasantly sharp and suspicious; with a cleverness which takes no account of tact or politeness, he questions you as though you were in the witness-box and he a criminal barrister trying to trap you. I don't know whether he behaves more civilly to ladies, but from our experience of the man I should recommend you to keep out of his way."