The lawyer shook his head. “Very clever,” he said. “But, frankly, the matter has an ugly look, Mr. Basset.”
“Lord Audley says nothing,” Basset replied, nettled by the lawyer’s phrase.
“And will say nothing,” Stubbs rejoined genially, “if he is advised by me. In the circumstances, as I understand them, he is not affected as he might be, but this is still a serious matter. We are not quarrelling with you for coming to us, Mr. Basset. On the contrary. But I would like to know why the man came to you.”
“The answer is simple,” Basset explained. “I am Mr. Audley’s executor. On his account, I am obliged to be interested. The moment I learned this I saw that, be it true or false, I must disclose it to Miss Audley. But I thought it fair to open it to Lord Audley first that he might tell the young lady himself, if he preferred to do so.”
Stubbs nodded. “Very proper,” he replied. “And where, in the meantime, is this—precious document?”
“I lodged it with Mr. Audley’s bankers this afternoon.”
Stubbs nodded again. “Also very proper,” he said. “Just so.”
Basset rose. “I’ve told you what I know. If there is nothing more?” he said. He looked at Audley, who had turned his back on them and, with his hands in his pockets and one foot on the fender, was gazing into the fire.
“I think that’s all,” Stubbs hastened to say. “I am sure that his lordship is obliged to you, Mr. Basset, though it is a hundred to one that there is nothing in this.”
At that, however, Audley turned about. He had pulled himself together, and his manner was excellent. “I would like to say that for myself,” he said frankly, “I owe you many thanks for the straightforward course you have taken, Basset. You must pardon my momentary annoyance. Perhaps you will kindly keep this business to yourself for—shall we say—three days? I will speak myself to my cousin, but I should like to make one or two inquiries first.”