On the first-floor landing Miss Oman opened a door and,
pointing to the room, said: "Go in there and wait; I'll tell her you're
here."
"I said _Mr_. Bellingham--" I began; but the door slammed on me, and
Miss Oman's footsteps retreated rapidly down the stairs.
It was at once obvious to me that I was in a very awkward position. The
room into which I had been shown communicated with another, and though
the door of communication was shut, I was unpleasantly aware of a
conversation that was taking place in the adjoining room. At first,
indeed, only a vague mutter, with a few disjointed phrases, came through
the door, but suddenly an angry voice rang out clear and painfully
distinct:
"Yes, I did! And I say it again. Bribery! Collusion! That's what it
amounts to. You want to square me!"
"Nothing of the kind, Godfrey," was the reply in a lower tone; but at
this point I coughed emphatically and moved a chair, and the voices
subsided once more into an indistinct murmur.
To distract my attention from my unseen neighbours I glanced curiously
about the room and speculated upon the personalities of its occupants.
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