The faint frown lingered on Mr. Manley's brow. Mr. Flexen supposed that
it was the result of his refraining from gratifying his appetite for the
dramatic. They were silent a while.

"When are you going to take our finger-prints?" said Mr. Manley
presently.

"Not till I've learned whether there are any on the handle of the knife,"
said Mr. Flexen. "Perkins has already sent it off to Scotland Yard."

"I never thought of that. It would be rather a waste of time to take them
before knowing that," said Mr. Manley.

Holloway brought the coffee; Mr. Manley gave Mr. Flexen an excellent
cigar, and they talked about the war. Mr. Flexen drank his coffee
quickly, said that he must get back to his work, and added that he hoped
that he would enjoy the company of Mr. Manley at dinner. Mr. Manley had
been going to dine with Helena Truslove; but after Mr. Flexen's question
whether Lord Loudwater had been entangled with any woman in the
neighbourhood, he thought that he had better dine with him. He might
learn something useful, if he could induce Mr. Flexen to expand under the
relaxing influence of dinner. He resolved to use his authority to have
the most engaging wine the cellar held. He was determined to make every
endeavour to keep Helena's name out of the affair, and he thought that he
would succeed.

Mr. Flexen left him. He finished his coffee, the second cup, slowly,
wondering about Mr. Flexen's question about Lord Loudwater and a woman.
Then, since he had done all the work he could think of, in the way of
making arrangements for the funeral, during the morning, he set out