He turned forthwith to join the iron-gray man before the
portrait which concealed the safe.
"And now, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Blensop, with indulgence.
"Well, sir," said Mr. Stone quietly, "if you'll be good enough to show me
how this contraption works, maybe I'll find out something interesting,
maybe not."
Mr. Blensop proceeded to oblige by operating the lever and sliding aside
the portrait.
"Thanks," said Mr. Stone, producing a magnifying glass from a waistcoat
pocket and beginning to peer myopically at the face of the safe. "I take
it nobody's been pawing over this since the late, as you might say,
unpleasantness?"
"Not a soul has touched it. By Colonel Stanistreet's order it was covered
as soon as we found it had been tampered with."
"_Um-m_," Mr. Stone acknowledged, bending close to his work.
Partially, perhaps, by way of administering an urbane rebuke to Lanyard for
his readiness to dispense with his society, Mr. Blensop remained in
the neighbourhood of Mr. Stone, hovering round him like a domesticated
humming-bird.
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