Mallett, for himself, felt more than a little foolish. He had been made to look ridiculous and he felt extremely doubtful whether any good purpose had been served by it. Meanwhile Lord Bernard, still laughing, pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

“The séance is over!” he announced.

Mallett’s heart sank.

“Then you still can’t remember?” he asked.

“On the contrary, I remember everything. And what I remember is so perfectly trivial and irrelevant that I can only apologize for making you waste your time.”

“I am the best judge of that,” returned the inspector. “What was it?”

“Simply this—I was going to say: ‘That reminds me that the lamented Ballantine still owes me some money for that dramatic society of his.’ ”

“In what way?”

“For the dresses and wigs and so on. As I was in charge, I ordered them all, and then when the bill came in he was to settle it. He hadn’t done so up to the time he was killed, and now the wig and dress people are going for me.”

“I suppose the members of the dramatic society are really liable to you,” suggested Mallett.

“Yes, but how can you ask those poor devils to pay? They’ve lost their jobs as it is. No, I don’t mind paying. What I object to is that they’re trying to charge me for something I didn’t order—something that wasn’t used in the play at all, and what’s more, the most expensive thing of the whole bill. It isn’t very much, but I object to the thing on principle.”

“Which is the firm in question?”

“Bradworthy’s—I expect you know the name. Their address is somewhere near Drury Lane. If it interests you. I’ll look for the bill, and show you what it’s all about.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” said Mallett “I can tell you. Bradworthy’s are dunning you for a brown beard and a padded suit, supplied by them to the London and Imperial Estates Ltd., some time between August and October last.”

Lord Bernard looked at him in amazement.

“You are perfectly right,” he said. “But how on earth you could guess is utterly beyond me. No, don’t tell me. I prefer to remain in ignorant admiration, ‘to venerate where I cannot presently comprehend’, as Burke so prettily said of the British constitution. I shall dine out on this story for weeks.”

He shook the inspector’s hand warmly.

“Good-bye,” he said, “and thank you for a most amusing morning. I wish you could tell me just one thing, though.”

“What is that?”

“Ought I to pay Bradworthy’s bill or not? It is rather on my conscience.”

“I must leave that to your lordship’s solicitors,” said Mallett, and took his departure.

21
AT MRS. BRADWORTHY’S

Tuesday, November 24th