Chapter XXII

THE CARDS ON THE TABLE There was nobody in the library at the Bellona Club; there never is. Wimsey led Penberthy into the farthest bay and sent a waiter for two double whiskies. ‘Here’s luck!’ he said. ‘Good luck,’ replied Penberthy. ‘What is it?’ ‘Look here,’ said Wimsey. ‘You’ve been a soldier. I think you’re a decent fellow. You’ve seen George Fentiman. It’s a pity, isn’t it?’ ‘What about it?’ ‘If George Fentiman hadn’t turned up with that delusion of his,’ said Wimsey, ‘you would have been arrested for the murd…