Chapter Twenty-nineMiss Silver had had a busy two days. On Saturday morning, after a short telephone conversation, she put on her hat and coat and went round to New Scotland Yard, where she was received by Sergeant Abbott and presently conducted by him into the presence of Chief Detective Inspector Lamb.
Frank Abbott, as always, derived a sardonic amusement from the ensuing ritual. Having met as old friends, with a hearty handshake on one side and a ladylike one on the other, Miss Silver hoped that the Chief Inspector was well, and enquired after his family.
‘And Mrs. Lamb? I trust she is in very good health... And your daughters? Lily’s little boy must be at a most delightful age.’
His daughters were the Chief Inspector’s weakness. He permitted himself to expatiate on the infant talent
