don’tknow。”hesaid。“’Tisatryingstrait。Well，well；there’snohurry。We’llwaitandseehowhegetson。”
Thateveninghecalledherintohisroom，asnuglittleapartmentbehindthelargeparlor。Ithadatonetimebeenpartofthebakehouse，withtheordinaryovalbrickoveninthewall；butMr。
Melbury，inturningitintoanoffice，hadbuiltintothecavityanironsafe，whichheusedforholdinghisprivatepapers。Thedoorofthesafewasnowopen，andhiskeyswerehangingfromit。
“Sitdown，Grace，andkeepmecompany。”hesaid。“Youmayamuseyourselfbylookingoverthese。”Hethrewoutaheapofpapersbeforeher。
“Whatarethey？”sheasked。