"Nephew?"
"The one who brought the note."
"He is not my nephew," Robert said coldly. Why was it so ageing to be avuncular? "He is my first cousin once removed. But I am glad you liked him." This would not do; he would have to take the bull by the horns. "I should like to see you sometime to discuss what we can do to straighten things out. To make things safer—" He waited.
"Yes, of course. Perhaps we could look in at your office one morning when we are shopping? What kind of thing could we do, do you think?"
"Some kind of private inquiry, perhaps. I can't very well discuss it over the telephone."
"No, of course you can't. How would it do if we came in on Friday morning? That is our weekly shopping day. Or is Friday a busy day for you?"
"No, Friday would be quite convenient," Robert said, swallowing down his disappointment. "About noon?"
"Yes, that would do very well. Twelve o'clock the day after tomorrow, at your office. Goodbye, and thank you again for your support and help."
She rang off, firmly and cleanly, without all the usual preliminary twitterings that Robert had come to expect from women.
"Shall I run her out for you," Bill Brough asked as he came out into the dim daylight of the garage.