After that, surely, the excitement will die down.”
I noticed a few reporters hanging about Old Hall when we arrived there. They accosted me with various queries to which I gave the invariable answer (we had found it the best), that, “I had nothing to say.”
We were shown by the butler into the drawing-room, the sole occupant of which turned out to be Miss Cram—apparently in a state of high enjoyment.
“This is a surprise, isn’t it?” she said, as she shook hands. “I never should have thought of such a thing, but Mrs. Protheroe is kind, isn’t she? And, of course, it isn’t what you might call nice for a young girl to be staying alone at a place like the Blue Boar, reporters about and all. And, of course, it’s not as though I haven’t been able to make myself useful—you really need a secretary at a time like this, and Miss Protheroe doesn’t do anything to help, does she?”