‘I daresay I may have left it upstairs,’ she said, winding up her knitting-wool. ‘I do not want anyone to worry about it. I expect it will turn up.’ She rose, said good night in a general way, and departed.

‘I shall follow her example,’ said Mathilda. ‘Are you coming up, Valerie?’

Valerie replied reluctantly that she supposed she would have to, but that the thought of having a policeman in the house was too ghoulish to permit of her closing her eyes all night.

‘I shouldn’t worry. I believe policemen are a very moral set,’ said Mathilda unkindly. ‘Lock your door, if you’re nervous.’

‘I do think you’re the limit!’ exclaimed Valerie, giggling.

‘I don’t suppose any of us will sleep much,’ remarked Mottisfont, when she had left the room. ‘I know I shan’t. I feel as though I’d had a knock-out. Nat! It still doesn’t seem possible!’

‘Personally,’ said Roydon, with ill-assumed indifference, ‘I feel pretty done-in, and I daresay I shall sleep like a log. After all, it’s different for me. I mean, it isn’t as though I knew Mr Herriard.’

This implication, that he stood aloof from the crime and its consequences, did nothing to advance his popularity with the three other men. Even Joseph shook his head in a foreboding way; and Mottisfont went so far as to say that they were all in it, one just as much as another.

‘I’m afraid I can hardly agree with you!’ said Roydon, in a head-voice. ‘I don’t want to cast any aspersions on anyone, but I had no quarrel with Mr Herriard!’

‘Just what do you mean by that, young man?’ Mottisfont demanded, his eyes snapping behind his spectacles.

Stephen yawned. ‘That you and I did. I wonder if I’m as boring as the rest of you? Perhaps I’d better go to bed. What’s the name of Uncle Nat’s solicitor, Joe?’

‘Filey, Blyth, and Blyth,’ answered Joseph. ‘But John Blyth has always handled poor Nat’s affairs.’

‘Know his home address?’

‘No; but I expect it’s in the Telephone Directory, for I’m nearly sure he lives in London. Why? Do you think we ought –’

‘I’ll ring him up in the morning,’ Stephen said, and lounged out.

Mottisfont watched him go, his expression one of open dislike. ‘Taking a lot on himself, isn’t he?’ he said disagreeably.

Joseph, who had looked a little surprised, rallied, and said briskly: ‘Nonsense! Stephen knows what a muddle-headed old fellow I am. Quite right of him! Good gracious, Edgar, I hope you aren’t trying to make me jealous of my own nephew! That would be rather too much of a good thing!’

‘Oh, as long as you don’t mind, I suppose it has nothing to do with me!’ said Mottisfont.

‘Stephen and I understand one another,’ said Joseph, becoming the indulgent uncle again. ‘Now, I think we had better all go to bed, don’t you? We are a little overwrought, and, indeed, how could we fail to be? Perhaps the night will bring counsel.’ He went to the door, but looked back as he opened it to say with a wistful smile: ‘We feel the blank in our lives already, don’t we? Perhaps I more than anyone. To go to bed without that good night to Nat! It will be long before I can accustom myself to it.’