But I rather wished he hadn't.
Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me.
"White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat," he detailed, pausing before the table where those strange exhibits lay.
A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand.
"What is it ?" Bray asked.
"The Daily Mail, sir," said the constable.

"The issues of July twenty-seventh, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth." Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them contemptuously into a waste-basket.

He turned to Walters.
"Sorry, sir," said Walters; "but I was so taken aback! Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

I'll go at once--" "No," replied Bray sharply.

"Never mind.