‘It is an urgent matter,’ agreed Lady Werth. ‘Though I own I would prefer not to have to go haring off after yet another Book, not two hours into our sojourn in London.’
‘It was awfully careless of Mr. Ballantine to lose the thing,’ said Gussie.
She had found her aunt and uncle engaged in going over the house, perhaps revisiting chambers that had once been familiar. She had discovered them in the book-room, an informal chamber too small to deserve the name of library. No fires had yet been lit, and the room languished under a settled, bone-deep chill, attended by a strong, musty odour.
These things did not appear to discompose Lord and Lady Werth in the least.
‘What exactly is it you would like me to do?’ said Lord Werth, leaning with one arm upon the mantelpiece. ‘The Runners have the
