“We think a lot of you two at the Yard,” replied that stolid gentleman. “You’d be surprised. If I may ask you, sir, what’s the meaning of that piece of string?”
“Nothing,” said Tommy, stuffing it into his pocket. “A bad habit of mine. As to the cheese cake and the milk—I’m on a diet. Nervous dyspepsia. Busy men are always martyrs to it.”
“Ah!” said the detective. “I thought perhaps you’d been reading—well, it’s of no consequence.”
But the Inspector’s eyes twinkled.