He opened the door with his latchkey, and ascended rapidly to the first floor.
Lunch was set for two in the room which he entered, and Charles Turold was seated at the table, turning over the pages of a book.

He glanced up expectantly, and his lips formed one word-- "Well ?" "It is not well," was the testy response.

"My charming sister has called in the assistance of Scotland Yard.

You'll have to stay.

We've got to face this thing out." His son received this piece of news with a pale face.