“This is very unsatisfactory, but if you refuse to say anything, we can take no further steps at present,” he added significantly.
Fletcher was torn between duty and another feeling. He was longing to ask Sefton how he came to be possessed of one of the missing notes, but he knew that such a question would make Ena turn against him, so he would defer it for the moment.
There was an awkward pause. Brown was furtively looking at Halley, and there was a puzzled look on his face as if he were trying to recall something to mind which eluded him, while Sefton was nervously twisting his fingers in and out.
And then with startling suddenness the clock struck the hour of twelve.
“We can do no more here,” said Fletcher.
“We? I don’t understand,” said Ena coldly.
“I ought to explain,” said Fletcher. “Sergeant Andrews is an old friend of mine, and asked me to watch The Red Cote with him, though of course I had no idea it had anything to do with your brother.”
“A sort of spy,” said Ena, with contempt, and there was an ominous glitter in her eye.
“I hope you don’t think that,” he said. “I thought it was just an adventure.”
Rather shamefacedly the men trooped out of the room.