"I say, Miss Laura," the Inspector was saying, "this has got to come
sometime or other. Why don't you make up your mind to it? I'm no great
hand at love-making, but I'm the right sort of man for you and I think you
know it."
"This," Quest murmured to himself, "is where Laura boxes the Inspector's
ears!"
Nothing of the sort happened, however. There was a queer, a mystifying
change in Laura's expression. She was looking down at the floor. Suddenly
her face was hidden in her hands. The Inspector threw his arms around her.
"That's all the answer I want," he declared.
Quest stole softly away. As he regained the door of his study, Lenora,
dressed for the street, hurried out. She tried to pass him but he laid his
hand upon her shoulder.
"I was just going round to Mr. French's office," she explained.
"That's all right," Quest replied. "The Inspector's here. You can leave
the note upon the table. Hi, Parkins," he called out to his secretary in
the next room, "get my hat and coat. Come back a moment, Lenora."
She turned into the room a little unwillingly and leaned against the
table. Quest stood by her side.
"Lenora," he said quietly, "that was kind of a brutal note I told you to
give to French, but I thought you'd understand."
She raised her eyes suddenly to his.
"Understand what?" she whispered.
The secretary entered the room, helped Quest on with his coat and handed
him his hat.
"If you are quite ready, Lenora."
"Ready?" she exclaimed.
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