my solicitor. None of my old servants are with me now."
I promised. Then she drank the glass of brandy-and-soda I mixed for her, and I saw her into the taxi which was waiting.
My hat, Brown! Imagine my feelings when she had gone. Here I was, once more, in an infernal hole, merely on account of a hysterical woman.
And the only way out of that impasse was by some subtle manœuvre whereby the man who knew would be placed hors-de-combat.
For hours I paced my room that night, turning matters carefully over, and trying to arrive at some conclusion as to the best means to adopt to achieve our sinister end.
You came in. Brown, to ask me about that testimonial to the organist at St. Stephen's, you will remember, and I put down my couple of guineas, which you thought so very generous where church work was concerned, did you not? It pays a medical man to be known among his patients as a good churchgoer. You know that quite well.
As Mr. Basil Fryer, solicitor, I duly arrived at Ashburton, after your unwelcome attention had sent me down to Dover, and after half an hour in the car I found myself at a big, old
