The man withdrew.  Sir Henry read the few lines thoughtfully:—­

Police-station, Dreymarsh
sir,

According to enquiries made I find that Mr. Hamar Lessingham arrived at the Hotel this evening in time for dinner.  His luggage arrived by rail yesterday.  It is presumed that he came by motor-car, but there is no car in the garage, nor any mention of one.  His room was taken for him by Miss Fairclough, ringing up for Lady Cranston about seven o’clock.

Respectfully yours,
John Haylock.

“Is your note of interest?” Philippa enquired.

“In a sense, yes,” he replied, thrusting it into his waistcoat pocket.  “I presume we can consider our late subject of conversation finished with?”

“I have nothing more to say,” she pronounced.

“Very well, then,” her husband agreed, “let us select another topic.  This time, supposing I choose?”

“You are welcome.”

“Let us converse, then, about Mr. Hamar Lessingham.”

Philippa had taken up her work.  Her fingers ceased their labours, but she did not look up.

“About Mr. Hamar Lessingham,” she repeated.  “Rather a limited subject, I am afraid.”

“I am not so sure,” he said thoughtfully.  “For instance, who is he?”

“I have no idea,” she replied.  “Does it matter?  He was at college with Richard, and he has been a visitor at Wood Norton.  That is all that we know.  Surely it is sufficient for us to offer him any reasonable hospitality?”

“I am not disputing it,” Sir Henry assured her.  “On the face of it, it seems perfectly reasonable that you should be civil to him.  On the other hand, there are one or two rather curious points about his coming here just now.”

“Really?” Philippa murmured indifferently, bending a little lower over her work.

“In the first place,” her husband continued, “how did he arrive here?”

“For all I know,” she replied, “he may have walked.”

“A little unlikely.  Still, he didn’t come from London by either of the evening trains, and it seems that you didn’t take his rooms for him until about seven o’clock, before which time he hadn’t been to the hotel.  So, you see, one is driven to wonder how the mischief he did get here.”

“I took his rooms?” Philippa repeated, with a sudden little catch at her heart.

“Some one from here rang up, didn’t they?” Sir Henry went on carelessly.  “I gathered that we were introducing him at the hotel.”

“Where did you hear that?” she demanded.

He shrugged his shoulders, but avoided answering the question.

“I have no doubt,” he continued, “that the whole subject of Mr. Hamar Lessingham is scarcely worth discussing.  Yet he does seem to have arrived here under a little halo of coincidence.”

“I am afraid I have scarcely appreciated that,” Philippa remarked; “in fact, his coming here has seemed to me the most ordinary thing in the world.  After all, although one scarcely remembers that since the war, this is a health resort, and the man has been ill.”