"Thank you, my lord. I don't use alcohol;
but I should like to have a cup of tea, if I may: great tea-drinker."
He took his cup of tea with the Inspector in the morning-room, and while
he drank it, he talked to the Inspector--of the country and the crops.
"I love the country," he said. "If I had my way, I would never put foot
in London again. When I retire, Inspector, I'm going to buy a little
farm--if it will run to it; and London won't see me again in a hurry.
Beautiful place, this; and they breed a remarkably good class of cattle.
I'm rather an authority on shorthorns; shall go in for some myself, if I
can afford it."
To all this the Inspector listened with amazement.
"Anything you'd like me to do, Mr. Jacobs?" he asked, in a tone that
verged on exasperation. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? That
window in the lower hall, for instance?"
"Thanks; I saw it as we passed through," replied Mr. Jacobs, simply.
"No; I don't think there's anything I want to see. Yes; this is a
beautiful house; quite a show-place. I should like to see something of
it presently; but one doesn't like to intrude at such a time as this."
The Inspector stared at him. "But perhaps I might go through what I
suppose you'd call the state rooms--and yes, upstairs."
"I thought you would have liked to examine the whole house without loss
of time," remarked the Inspector, with an aggrieved air.
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