going to send me one." Then turning back to her father, "Take me to the station with you?"
Willitts and the chauffeur exchanged a glance. The nurse made a quick forward movement, suddenly gently authoritative:
"No, no, darling. You can't drive now. It's time to go in and take jour rest."
Bebita looked mutinous, but her father, drawing her to him and kissing her, rose:
"I can't honey-bun. I'm in a hurry and there wouldn't be any fun just driving down to the village and back. You run along with Annie now and as soon as I get to town I'll buy you the torch and send it."
The nurse mounted the steps, took the child's hand, and together they stood watching Chapman as he got in. Willitts took the seat beside the chauffeur, adroitly disposing his legs among a pile of suitcases, golf bags, umbrellas and walking sticks. As the car started Chapman looked back at his daughter. She was regarding him with the intent, grave interest, a little wistful, with which children watch a departure
This and the "Black Eagle Mystery" from the same author were quite readable and believable detective stories that kept me on it till the end. Fine transcription too.