CHAPTER ELEVEN
Second Arrow“What in the world, Mr. Gamadge,” asked Caroline, “are you digging out of the wastebasket?”
Gamadge straightened, glanced at the paper ball, and dropped it into his pocket. “A memorandum I threw away this afternoon by accident. Lucky to find it again.”
“If our footman hadn’t gone to the wars you wouldn’t have found it; the basket would have been emptied before dinner.”
A well-dressed man with an air of cool authority came out of Mrs. Fenway’s bedroom. He was carrying a black bag. “Well, Caroline!” He stopped to look at her, professionally enough, but also with a manner at once friendly and paternal. “Do you want some of the sedatives I stuffed into my bag, or can you manage without them?”
“I can manage, Doctor.”
“I thought you could.” He put the bag on the
