CHAPTER XXIIDetective Inspector Frank Abbott and Inspector Newbury drove up to the house together at just after five o’clock. It had turned cold and was beginning to be wet. The house felt agreeably warm when they came into it.
As Marsham stood back from the front door, which he had closed behind them, he received a shock of surprise. The Inspector from Scotland Yard looked a great deal more like a guest than accorded with his sense of the fitness of things. He had been in very good houses, and he knew. Even if he had still been in service with the Earl of Drumble he would without a qualm have admitted this tall fair young man on any social occasion. Very good clothes too. Savile Row if he was a judge, and he thought he was. Not too new, and worn the way a gentleman ought to wear his clot
