apparent aimlessness of the deed, hinted darkly at clews in the
possession of the police, and finally got rid of the well-meaning
chauffeur. Back he went to his telephone, and having ascertained that
Mr. Forbes was fully expected to put in an appearance at the city
office before noon, settled down to read the newspapers.

They contained sensational but fairly accurate accounts of the
tragedy. One enterprising journal had published an interview with
Bates, whom the reporter described as "a typical British man-servant,"
which was amusing, since Bates had "retired noncommissioned officer"
written all over his square frame and soldierly features.

The same journalist spoke of Theydon himself, and had even ferreted
out the fact that Mrs. Lester was the widow of an English barrister
who had died at Shanghai. On reaction, Theydon saw that there was
nothing unusual in this statement. The connection between the
metropolitan press and the bar is old and intimate, and scores of
junior barristers must remember Arthur Lester's beginnings.

Resolved to possess his soul in patience till twelve o'clock, the hour
being yet barely 11:30 a. m., Theydon tackled a page of reviews, since
there is always consolation for a writer in learning at second hand
what sheer drivel others can produce.

He was growling at the discovery that some hapless essayist had
appropriated a title which he himself had marked down for his next
book, when the door-bell rang. He did not give much heed, because so
many tradesmen called during the course of each morning, so he was
surprised and startled when Bates announced: