Nineteen
Professor Purdy sounded irritated as he broke off dictating¹ and answered the telephone.
“Who? What? You mean he is here now? Well, ask him if tomorrow will do?—Oh, very well—very well—Tell him to come up.”
“Always something,” he said with vexation. “How can one ever be expected to do any seriouswork with these constant interruptions.” He looked with mild displeasure at Sheila Webb and said:
“Now where were we, my dear?”
Sheila was about to reply when there was a knock at the door. Professor Purdy brought himselfback with some difficulty from the chronological² difficulties of approximately three thousandyears ago.
“Yes?” he said testily³, “yes, come in, what is it? I may say I mentioned particularly that I wasnot to be disturbed this afternoon.”
“I’m very sorry, sir, very sorry indeed that it has been necessary to do so. Good evening, MissWebb.”
Sheila Webb had risen to her feet, setting aside her notebook. Hardcastle wondered if he onlyfancied that he saw sudden apprehension⁴ come into her eyes.
“Well, what is it?” said the professor again, sharply.
“I am Detective Inspector⁵ Hardcastle, as Miss Webb here will tell you.”
“Quite,” said the professor. “Quite.”
“What I really wanted was a few words with Miss Webb.”
“Can’t you wait? It is really most awkward at this moment. Most awkward. We were just at acritical point. Miss Webb will be disengaged in about a quarter of an hour—oh, well, perhaps halfan hour. Something like that. Oh, dear me, is it six o’clock already?”
“I’m very sorry, Professor Purdy,” Hardcastle’s tone was firm.
“Oh, very well, very well. What is it—some motoring offence, I suppose? How very officiousthese traffic wardens⁶ are. One insisted the other day that I had left my car four and a half hours at aparking meter. I’m sure that could not possibly be so.”

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