Is soldiering your regular profession, Mr.
Hastings?"
"No, before the war I was in Lloyd's."
"And you will return there after it is over?"
"Perhaps. Either that or a fresh start
altogether."
Mary Cavendish leant forward.
"What would you really choose as a
profession, if you could just consult your
inclination?"
"Well, that depends."
"No secret hobby?" she asked. "Tell me
you're drawn to something? Every one is
usually something absurd."
"There have been a great number of
undiscovered crimes," I argued.
"Don't mean the police, but the people
that are right in it. The family. You
couldn't really hoodwink them. They'd
know."
"Then," I said, much amused, "you think
that if you were mixed up in a crime, say
a murder, you'd be able to spot the
murderer right off?"
"Of course I should. Mightn't be able to
prove it to a pack of lawyers. But I'm
certain I'd know. I'd feel it in my fingertips
if he came near me."
"You'll laugh at me."
She smiled.
"Perhaps."
"Well, I've always had a secret hankering
to be a detective!"
"The real thing Scotland
Sherlock Holmes?"
"Like a good detective story myself,"
remarked Miss Howard. "Lots of
nonsense written, though. Criminal
discovered in last chapter. Every one
dumbfounded. Real crime—you'd know
at once."
Yard?
Or
"Oh, Sherlock Holmes by all means. But
really, seriously, I am awfully drawn to it. I
came across a man in Belgium once, a
very famous detective, and he quite
inflamed me.
He was a marvellous little fellow. He used
to say that all good detective work was a
mere matter of method. My system is
based on his though of course I have
progressed rather further. He was a funny
little man, a great dandy, but wonderfully
clever."
"It might be a 'she,'" I suggested.
"Might. But murder's a violent crime.
Associate it more with a man."