‘Well, if it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d like to get the Kenrick murder off my chest first.’
‘The what?’
‘This is my written report on it,’ Grant said, laying in front of Bryce the neat bundle of quarto pages that was the product of his pleasant Sunday at home.
As he laid the thing down he remembered in a vague, surprised way that what he had planned to lay in front of Bryce was his resignation.
What odd notions occurred to one on holiday.
He was going to resign, and be a sheep farmer or something, and get married.
What an extraordinary idea. What a most extraordinary idea.