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244 "You will excuse me," I said, "but I never do business with any one but principals."

I had read the phrase or something like it in a money-lender's circular, and I was rather pleased with it. It certainly had a devastating effect upon Mr. Chichester-Pettigrew. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. I beamed upon him.

"My great-uncle George's maxim," I added, as an afterthought. "Great-aunt Jane's husband, you know. He made knobs for brass beds."

I doubt if Chichester-Pettigrew had ever been ragged before. He didn't like it at all.

"I think you would be wise to alter your tone, young lady."

I did not reply, but yawned—a delicate little yawn that hinted at intense boredom.

"What the devil" he began forcibly.

I interrupted him.

"I can assure you it's no good shouting at me. We are only wasting time here. I have no intention of talking with underlings. You will save a lot of time and annoyance by taking me straight to Sir Eustace Pedler."

To"

He looked dumbfounded.

"Yes," I said. "Sir Eustace Pedler."

"I—I—excuse me"

He bolted from the room like a rabbit. I took advantage of the respite to open my bag and powder my nose thoroughly. Also I settled my hat at a more becoming angle. Then I settled myself to wait with patience for my enemy's return.

He reappeared in a subtly chastened mood.

"Will you come this way, Miss Beddingfeld?"

I followed him up the stairs. He knocked at the door of a room, a brisk "Come in" sounded from inside, and