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"Gone over to Brance Hall, sir." Patricia, Hannah Ann, and the Haldens met on the blue rug, and Patricia was the first to find her voice. On the morrow the post-mortem examination was to take place, and the inspector of police at Deanminster had left a man in the house to look after the interests of justice. As yet the inspector--no very gifted man at the most--was doubtful of the proper course to pursue. A crime had been committed; the victim was a well-known gentleman; so here, if anywhere, was a chance of his covering himself with glory by discovering the assassin. But Arkel--the inspector in question--had only experience in bucolic crimes of the rick-burning order, or, at the worst, the poker murders of laborers. The subtlety with which this deed had been accomplished baffled him. He could not grasp the idea of the devil-stick, or even take in the mode of the death. If Arkel were to be the avenger of Alymer's death the assassin ran an excellent chance of getting off scot free..
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Conrad
Battersea drew back and began to whimper again. "I'll sing just one more, and then I'll have to stop," she said with eager brightness. "My voice isn't strong enough to do much, you know, though I'm awfully glad you like the songs." "Inspector Arkel and Dr. Etwald are waiting for you in the library," said Sarby, rapidly. "This is my real introduction to the night-life class," she said, with a sweeping gesture that, unseen to all but the anxious Patricia, caught the cord from its hiding place among the draperies. "And I want this evening to be a sweet memory to us all.".
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