When I came down again
after the nurse had taken possession I found a strange gentleman
hanging about the hall and pacing to and fro by the closed door of
the drawing-room. This personage was florid and bald; he had a big
red moustache and wore showy knickerbockers--characteristics all
that fitted to my conception of the identity of Dora Forbes. In a
moment I saw what had happened: the author of "The Other Way
Round" had just alighted at the portals of Prestidge, but had
suffered a scruple to restrain him from penetrating further. I
recognised his scruple when, pausing to listen at his gesture of
caution, I heard a shrill voice lifted in a sort of rhythmic
uncanny chant. The famous reading had begun, only it was the
author of "Obsessions" who now furnished the sacrifice. The new
visitor whispered to me that he judged something was going on he
oughtn't to interrupt.
"Miss Collop arrived last night," I smiled, "and the Princess has a
thirst for the inedit."
Dora Forbes lifted his bushy brows. "Miss Collop?"
"Guy Walsingham, your distinguished confrere--or shall I say your
formidable rival?"
"Oh!" growled Dora Forbes. Then he added: "Shall I spoil it if I
go in?"
"I should think nothing could spoil it!" I ambiguously laughed.
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