Already there was a cloud between him and the Martins, father and daughter.

To what a tempest might not that cloud develop when the questionings and innuendoes of the inquest established an aura of suspicion and intrigue around a perfectly innocent meeting in the garden of The Hollies! Grant ate his breakfast in wrath.

In wrath, too, he glanced through the morning newspapers, and saw his own name figuring large in the "story" of the "alleged" murder.

The reporters had missed nothing.

They had even got hold of the "peculiar coincidence" of his (Grant's) glimpse of a face at the window.