“Excellent, my dear fellow, excellent,” said Sir Eustace genially. “My mistake.”

I chanced to look at Chichester-Pettigrew as he left the room. He was white to the lips, as though in deadly terror. No sooner was he outside than Sir Eustace picked up a speaking tube that rested by his elbow and spoke down it.

“That you, Schwart? Watch Minks. He’s not to leave the house without orders.”

He put the speaking tube down again and frowned, slightly tapping the table with his hand.

“May I ask you a few questions, Sir Eustace,” I said, after a minute or two of silence.

“Certainly. What excellent nerves you have, Anne. You are capable of taking an intelligent interest in things when most girls would be sniffling and wringing their hands.”