Speculation of the House-Agent
ready, sir. I've attended to all your suggestions—er—about the br—"
"Right," cried Keith, cutting the word short with the startling neatness of a gun shot. "We needn't bother about all that. If you've done what I told you, all right."
And he turned sharply towards the door.
Mr. Montmorency, house-agent, presented a picture of pathos. After stammering a moment, he said: "Excuse me … Mr. Keith … there was another matter … about which I wasn't quite sure. I tried to get all the heating apparatus possible under the circumstances … but in winter … at that elevation …"
"Can't expect much, eh?" said the lieutenant, cutting in with the same sudden skill. "No, of course not. That's all right, Montmorency. There can't be any more difficulties," and he put his hand on the handle of the door.
"I think," said Rupert Grant, with a satanic suavity, "that Mr. Montmorency has something further to say to you, lieutenant."
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