We parted company and I inquired of Reeves if I could see Mrs. Protheroe.
“She is lying down, sir, at the moment.”
“Then I’d better not disturb her.”
“Perhaps if you would wait, sir, I know that Mrs. Protheroe is anxious to see you. She was saying as much at luncheon.”
He showed me into the drawing-room, switching on the electric lights since the blinds were down.
“A very sad business all this,” I said.
“Yes, sir.” His voice was cold and respectful.
I looked at him. What feelings were at work under that impassive demeanour. Were there things that he knew and could have told us? There is nothing so inhuman as the mask of the good servant.
“Is there anything more, sir?”
Was there just a hint of anxiety to be gone behind that correct expression?
“There’s nothing more,” I said.
I had a very short time to wait before Anne Protheroe came to me. We discussed and settled a few arrangements and then:
“What a wonderfully kind man Dr. Haydock is!” she exclaimed.
“Haydock is the best fellow I know.”
“He has been amazingly kind to me. But he looks very sad, doesn’t he?”