In Harley's absence I had taken it upon myself to give an order to
Pedro to the effect that no reporters were to be admitted; and in this
I had done well. So quickly does evil news fly that, between mid-day
and the hour of Harley's return, no fewer than five reporters, I
believe, presented themselves at Cray's Folly. Some of the more
persistent continued to haunt the neighbourhood, and I had withdrawn to
the deserted library, in order to avoid observation, when I heard a car
draw up in the courtyard, and a moment later heard Harley asking for
me.
I hurried out to meet him, and as I appeared at the door of the
library:
"Hullo, Knox," he called, running up the steps. "Any developments?"
"No actual development?" I replied, "except that several members of the
Press have been here."
"You told them nothing?" he asked, eagerly.
"No; they were not admitted."
"Good, good," he muttered.
"I had expected you long before this, Harley."
"Naturally," he said, with a sort of irritation. "I have been all the
way to Whitehall and back."
"To Whitehall! What, you have been to London?"
"I had half anticipated it, Knox.
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