“No, no,” Mr. Jeekes averred hastily. “But there was some unpleasantness some months ago ... er ... a county court action, to be precise, about some bills she owed. Mr. Parrish was very angry about it and settled to prevent it coming into court. But there was some talk about it ... in legal circles ...”
He threw a rather scared glance at the girl.
“Please explain yourself, Mr. Jeekes,” she said coldly. “I don’t understand ...”
“Her lawyer was Le Hagen—it’s a shady firm with a big criminal practice. They sometimes brief Mr. Greve ...”
Mary Trevert clasped and unclasped her hands quickly.
“I quite understand, Mr. Jeekes,” she said. “You needn’t say any more ...”
She turned away in a manner that implied dismissal. It was as though she had forgotten the secretary’s existence. He picked up his attaché case and walked slowly to the door.
A sharp exclamation broke from his lips.
“Miss Trevert,” he cried, “the door ... I shut it a little while back ... look, it’s ajar!”
The girl who stood at the fire switched on the electric light by the mantelpiece.