CHAPTER SIXTEENYew Hedges
Gamadge, standing on the back steps of the house, turned up the collar of his overcoat; a fitful wind was driving rags of cloud before it, and then closing them up again to shut out patches of blue. He was hailed from above, and looking up and to the left saw Corinne Hutter at her open window.
“Mr. Gamadge,” she asked, “if you’re going for a walk would you take the dogs? We’re not allowed out and the servants are busy.”
“Can’t they run by themselves?”
“Oh, no; they’re never out loose. Something might happen to them. A cat scratched Bobo awfully once.”
“Come along yourself, and bring them.”
“We’re not supposed to leave the house.” Gamadge hailed Briggs, who stood ten yards down the walk. “Will you be kind enough,” he asked, “to see whether Lieutenant Windorp
