Miss
Verinder followed me out into the corridor.
"They seem to be in a conspiracy to persecute you," she said. "What does
it mean?"
"Only the protest of the world, Miss Verinder--on a very small
scale--against anything that is new."
"What are we to do with Mrs. Merridew?"
"Tell her the explosion will take place at nine to-morrow morning."
"So as to send her to bed?"
"Yes--so as to send her to bed."
Miss Verinder went back to the sitting-room, and I went upstairs to Mr.
Blake.
To my surprise I found him alone; restlessly pacing his room, and a
little irritated at being left by himself.
"Where is Mr. Bruff?" I asked.
He pointed to the closed door of communication between the two rooms.
Mr. Bruff had looked in on him, for a moment; had attempted to renew his
protest against our proceedings; and had once more failed to produce the
smallest impression on Mr. Blake. Upon this, the lawyer had taken refuge
in a black leather bag, filled to bursting with professional papers.
"The serious business of life," he admitted, "was sadly out of place on
such an occasion as the present. But the serious business of life
must be carried on, for all that.
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