Lord Valletort is quite right.
We have not a second to waste." A murmur of protest arose from the pressmen, though it was obvious that the police could not conduct the inquiry in the midst of an ever-growing crowd of residents and servants.
"Say, Steingall," whispered the reporter who had spoken for the others earlier, "can't you let us into this?
We'll suppress anything you wish--I'll guarantee that, absolutely without reservation." "_I_ have no objection, but these high-toned strangers may not like it," said the detective quietly.
The Earl, when the point was referred to him, made no difficulty whatsoever about the presence of the journalists--in fact, he rather welcomed publicity.
"It is better that the truth should appear than a garbled and misleading version," he said affably.

"I want your help, gentlemen.

I know enough of newspaper ways to feel sure that a story of some sort will be star-headed in every news sheet in New York to-morrow, so my friend, Count Vassilan, and I are more than willing that you should be well informed." Now, that phase of the problem was precisely what Count Ladislas Vassilan seemed to be exceedingly disconcerted about.

He was singularly ill at ease.

His florid face had paled to a dusky wanness when he heard the ugly word "Murder," and each passing moment served only to increase his agitation.