“I was wondering if you could tell me about Miss Jean Paget,” he said. “Where she lives, or anything like that.”
I smiled. “Miss Paget is a client of mine, Mr. Harman,” I said. “You evidently know that. But a client’s business is entirely confidential, you know. Are you a friend of hers?”
The question seemed to embarrass him still further. “Sort of,” he replied. “We met once in the war, in Malaya that was. I’ll have to tell you who I am, of course. I’m a Queenslander. I run a station in the Gulf country, about twenty miles from Willstown.” He spoke very slowly and deliberately, not from embarrassment but because that seemed to be his way. “I mean, the homestead is twenty miles from town, but one limb of the land runs down the creek to within five miles. Midhurst, that’s the name of my st
