“Oh, really, Mr. Sinclair, I think he has had enough for this evening,” said Mabel.
“I am afraid the matter is very urgent,” insisted the other.
Something in his manner irritated Allery. “Mr. Sinclair,” he said, “you must remember, please, you are a guest here, and not on official duty. Are you not satisfied with the explanation you have heard?”
Collins interposed. “Don’t you think you ought to tell old John and the servants that you have come home? You know how servants gossip.”
“Of course,” said Watson, “I must do that at once. Don’t disturb yourselves, we don’t want any solemn announcement. I will just go and tell him, in an off-hand way. The old fellow will be very pleased.”
He got up and went out. Sinclair bit his lip.
There was a silence when he had gone out.
Allery cleared his throat.
“Mr. Sinclair,” he said, “this brings about an awkward situation. We are rather in your hands. Your department is searching for Lewis. You have—if I may say so—unofficially found him. The question is, if you are satisfied that he has nothing to do with the crime, will you consent for us to carry out our plan and let him go, as we had arranged.”
“That places me in a curious position. I can’t give an answer off-hand. I must think it over.”