"After hours," said Mr. Rickett, gruffly, avoiding the detective's eye. The woman's confidence was a conviction in itself.
She looked surprised, and before she should commit herself further Grant pulled his own cigarette case from his pocket. "Madam, they say a nation gets the laws it deserves. It is not in my weak power to obtain the sixpenny packet for you, but please let me repay your help by providing Jim's smoke." He poured his cigarettes into her astonished hands, and dismissed her, protesting.
"And now," he said to Rickett, "about this brotherhood or whatever it is. Do you know it?"
"No. There is such a thing, now I remember. But I don't know where they hang out. You heard what she said. Behind the Cock and Pheasant. Half the cranks in the world has branches here, if it comes to that. I'm shutting up now."
"I should," Grant said. "People wanting cigarettes are a nuisance."
Mr. Rickett growled.
"Come on, Williams. And remember, Rickett, not a word of this to anyone. You'll probably see us tomorrow."
Rickett was understood to say that if he never saw them again it would be too soon.
"This is a rum go, sir," Williams said, as they set off down the street. "What's the program now?"
"I'm going to call on the brotherhood. I don't think you had better come along, Williams. Your good healthy Worcestershire face doesn't suggest any yearning after the life ascetic."