CHAPTER XXII
SOMEBODY IN THE ROOM WITH THE COFFIN
When we returned, a ‘young’ gentleman had arrived. We saw him in the parlour as we passed the window. It was simply a glance, but such a one as suffices to make a photograph, which we can study afterwards, at our leisure. I remember him at this moment—a man of six-and-thirty—dressed in a grey travelling suit, not over-well made; light-haired, fat-faced, and clumsy; and he looked both dull and cunning, and not at all like a gentleman.
Branston met us, announced the arrival, and handed me the stranger’s credentials. My cousin and I stopped in the passage to read them.
‘That’s your uncle Silas’s,’ said Lady Knollys, touching one of the two letters with the tip of her finger.
‘Shall we have lunch, Miss?’
‘Certainly.’ So Branston departed.
