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p>A girl came very quickly out of the door behind Doan and said Uh! in a startled gasp when she saw Carstairs looming in front of her.
Carstairs didn't move out of her way. He turned lazily to stare at her. So did Doan.
She was a small girl, and she looked slightly underfed. She had very wide, very clear blue eyes. They were nice eyes. Nothing startling, but adequate. Her hair was brown and smooth under a white turban, and she wore a white sports dress and a white jacket and white openwork sandals. She had a clear, smooth skin, and she blushed easily. She was doing it now.
"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. "He--he frightened me."
"He frightens me, too, sometimes." said Doan.
"What's your name?"
The girl looked at him uncertainly. "My name? It's Janet Martin."
"Mine's Doan," said Doan. "I'm a detective."
"A--a detective?" Janet Martin repeated, fumbling a little over the word. "You don't look like one."
"Of course not," Doan told her. "I'm in disguise. I'm pretending I'm a tourist."
"Oh," said Janet, still uncertain. "But--do you go around telling everybody about it?"
"Certainly," said Doan. "My disguise is so perfect no one would know I was a detective if I didn't tell them, so naturally I do."
"Oh," said Janet. "I see." She looked at Carstairs. "He's beautiful. I mean, not beautiful but--but magnificent. Does he bite?"
"Quite often," Doan admitted.
"May I pet him?"
Doan looked at Carstairs inquiringly. "May she?"
Carstairs studied Janet for a moment and then came one step closer to her and lowered his head regally. Janet patted his broad brow.
"Don't scratch his ears," Doan warned. "He detests that."
A long brown bus pulled around the curve of the drive and stopped in front of the terrace steps. A little man in a spic-and-span brown uniform popped out, clicked his heels snappily, and said, "The tour of sight-seeing presents itself to those who wish to view the magnificence with educated