"He seems to have come in here for a
collar lately."
Bill peered in. There was one collar at the bottom of the
basket.
"Yes. I daresay he would," he agreed. "If he suddenly found
that the one he was wearing was uncomfortable or a little bit
dirty, or something. He was very finicking."
Antony leant over and picked it out.
"It must have been uncomfortable this time," he said, after
examining it carefully. "It couldn't very well be cleaner." He
dropped it back again. "Anyway, he did come in here sometimes?"
"Oh, yes, rather."
"Yes, but what did Cayley come in for so secretly?"
"What did he want to shut the door for?" said Bill. "That's what
I don't understand. You couldn't have seen him, anyhow."
"No. So it follows that I might have heard him. He was going to
do something which he didn't want me to hear."
"By Jove, that's it!" said Bill eagerly.
"Yes; but what?"
Bill frowned hopefully to himself, but no inspiration came.
"Well, let's have some air, anyway," he said at last, exhausted
by the effort, and he went to the window, opened it, and looked
out.
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