But the "little Frenchman" was smiling, too. He had elaborated the scheme
already discussed with Winter. It was much to his liking, though
unorthodox, rather crack-brained, more than risky, and altogether opposed
to the instructions of the Police Manual. Each of these drawbacks was a
commendation to Furneaux. In fact, the Steynholme mystery had taken quite
a favorable turn during that talk with Ingerman.




CHAPTER XI

P. C. ROBINSON TAKES ANOTHER LINE


About the time Furneaux was whisked past The Hollies in Superintendent
Fowler's dogcart, Grant and Hart were finishing luncheon, and planning a
long walk to the sea. Grant would dearly have liked to secure Doris's
company, but good taste forbade that he should even invite her to share
the ramble. Thus, the death of a woman with whom he had not exchanged a
word during three years had already set up a barrier between Doris and
himself. Though impalpable, it was effective. It could neither be climbed
nor avoided. Quiet little Steynholme had suddenly become a rigid censor
of morals and etiquette. Until this evil thing was annihilated by slow
process of law, Doris and he might meet only by chance and never remain
long together.

When the two were ready to start, Hart elected to dispense with his South
American sombrero.