Читать книгу The Running Fight онлайн

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"It's not my car," he returned brusquely.

Again a puzzled look came over the servant's face, but concealing his embarrassment, he closed the door.

"Very good, sir," he said. "Kindly step this way."

Ilingsworth followed him down the long hall to the entrance of a room before which stood another servant.

"Step into the reception-room, sir, if you please," said the butler. But, to the astonishment of both men, the footman advanced and waved them back, saying:

"One moment, please, sir." And oblivious to the fact that Ilingsworth was standing in the middle of the broad hall, he drew the butler to one side, whispered in a confidential, off-duty aside: "You must not take him in there. Put him somewhere else."

"Why not?" asked the butler. "Who's in there?"

The footman became inexcusably mysterious. He looked about him on all sides to see that he was unheard. Then he shaded his mouth with his hand and placed his lips close to the other's ear.

"Her," he whispered.

The butler eyed the footman sharply.