"Culling says there is no woman but a cook in the house," he began, with the studied tranquillity of an angry man. "He clearly lies. Gartside says Miss Davenant is not in the flat. He probably lies, but it is always possible that the sound we heard may have come from some woman Aintree thinks fit to keep in his rooms. In either event, I do not feel bound by the undertaking I have given." He pulled out a note-book and pretended to consult it. "To-day's Wednesday. If my sister and Sylvia have not been restored to their families by midday on Monday, I shall apply for a warrant to have these rooms searched. They will, of course, be watched in the interval. If Lord Gartside or any other person presumes to lay a finger on me, I shall summon him for assault."
Pocketing the note-book he passed out of the flat with the air I suspect Rhadamanthus of assuming, when he is leaving the court for the luncheon interval, and has had a disagreeable morning with the prisoners. Culling accompanied him to prevent a sudden bolt at a suspicious-looking door, Philip followed with the Seraph, I brought up the rear with Gartside. All of us were smarting with the Englishman's traditional dislike of a "scene."
"I never congratulated you on the Bombay appointment," I said, with praiseworthy design of scrambling onto neutral territory. "How soon are you off?"
"Friday week," he answered.
"It's little enough time—nine days."
"Oh, I've known for some little while beyond that. It was only made public to-day."
"It's a pleasant post," I said reflectively. "In a tolerably pleasant country. I shall probably come to stay with you; I'm forgetting what India's like."
"I wish you would," he said warmly.
"How are you going? P. and O. I suppose?"
"No, I shall go in my own yacht."