Step inside there," he continued, drawing aside the curtains which shut off the back room.
"Don't stick at trifles!--you don't know what may be afoot." He almost forced them away, drew the curtains again, and hurrying to the front door, returned almost immediately with Mitchington.
"Hope I'm not disturbing you, doctor," said the inspector, as Bryce brought him in and again closed the door.

"Not?
All right, then--I came round to ask you a question.

There's a queer rumour getting out in the town, about that affair last week.

Seems to have sprung from some of those old dowagers in the Close." "Of course!" said Bryce.

He was mixing a whisky-and-soda for his caller, and his laugh mingled with the splash of the siphon.