Page:Murder of Roger Ackroyd - 1926.djvu/52

 Mrs. Ackroyd sigheda tribute to her mother’s heart, whilst her eyes remained shrewdly observant of me.

“I was wondering. You are such an old friend of dear Roger’s. We know how much he trusts to your judgment. So difficult for mein my position, as poor Cecil’s widow. But there are so many tiresome thingssettlements, you knowall that. I fully believe that Roger intends to make settlements upon dear Flora, but, as you know, he is just a leetle peculiar about money. Very usual, I’ve heard, amongst men who are captains of industry. I wondered, you know, if you could just sound him on the subject? Flora is so fond of you. We feel you are quite an old friend, although we have only really known you just over two years.”

Mrs. Ackroyd’s eloquence was cut short as the drawing-room door opened once more. I was pleased at the interruption. I hate interfering in other people’s affairs, and I had not the least intention of tackling Ackroyd on the subject of Flora’s settlements. In another moment I should have been forced to tell Mrs. Ackroyd as much.

“You know Major Blunt, don’t you, doctor?”

“Yes, indeed,” I said.

A lot of people know Hector Bluntat least by repute. He has shot more wild animals in unlikely places than any man living, I suppose. When you mention him, people say: “Bluntyou don’t mean the big game man, do you?”

His friendship with Ackroyd has always puzzled me a little. The two men are so totally dissimilar. Hector Blunt is perhaps five years Ackroyd’s junior. They made