"
Collingwood went away to his chambers. He was much occupied just then,
and had little time to think of anything but the work in hand. But as he
ate his lunch at the club which he had joined on settling in Barford, he
tried to get at some notion of the state of things, and once more his
mind reverted to the time of his grandfather's death, and his own
suspicions about Pratt at that period. Clearly that was a point to which
they must hark back--he himself must make more inquiries about the
circumstances of Antony Bartle's last hours. For this affair would not
have to rest where it was--it was intolerable that Nesta Mallathorpe
should in any way be under Pratt's power. He went back to Eldrick at
four o'clock with a suggestion or two in his mind. And at the sight of
him Eldrick shook his head.
"I've had that telephone message from Normandale," he said, "five
minutes ago. Pretty much what I expected--at this juncture, anyway. Mrs.
Mallathorpe absolutely declines to talk business with even her daughter
at present--and earnestly desires that Mr. Linford Pratt may be left
alone."
"Well?" asked Collingwood after a pause. "What now?"
"We must do what we can--secretly, privately, for the daughter's sake,"
said Eldrick. "I confess I don't quite see a beginning, but----"
Just then the private door opened, and Pascoe, a somewhat
lackadaisical-mannered man, who always looked half-asleep, and was in
reality remarkably wide-awake, lounged in, nodded to Collingwood, and
threw a newspaper in front of his partner.
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