The butler, Billy, almost pitched into the room.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE BAT STILL FLIES
He stepped back in the doorway, looked out, then turned to them again.
“I come in, please?” he said pathetically, his hands quivering. “I not like to stay in dark.”
Miss Cornelia took pity on him.
“Come in, Billy, of course. What is it? Anything the matter?”
Billy glanced about nervously.
“Man with sore head.”
“What about him?”
“Act very strange.” Again Billy’s slim hands trembled.