“You poured away my hyoscine,” said Mr. Deeling. “I must make a note of that, and you must please tell me the quantity. It will throw out all my accounts.”
Constance gazed at him.
“Never mind that now,” she said. “We’ve got to decide how we are going to get at Doctor Murchison. Somehow I shall have to recover my keys. Perhaps I could persuade Godstone—”
“Yes,” broke in Mr. Deeling eagerly. “That is the way. Talk to Godstone. Persuade him. He will do anything for you. Why, I’ve seen you together in the garden. Perhaps, if you were really nice to him—you may be able to save us both in that way. And, in any case, he will not kill you. No, he will not kill you. He has other views. Of that I am quite sure.”
“I must, in any case, try to get the keys,” she said more to herself than to him.
M
