the passage is rather dark

"It was not there. What I want to know is, do you charge this young lady? If you charge her, of course you take all the responsibility for the act, and if you fail to convict her you will be liable to an action for false arrest." "I know, I know, I know," said Mr. White, with remarkable asperity in one so placid. "No, I do not charge her. I am sorry you have been inconvenienced"--he turned to the girl in his most majestic manner--"and I trust that you bear no ill-will." He offered a large and flabby hand, but Oliva ignored it. "Mind you don't trip over the mat as you go out," she said, "the passage is rather dark." Mr. White left the room, breathing heavily. "Excuse me one moment," said the doctor in a low voice. "I have a few words to say to White." "Please don't make a fuss," said Oliva, "I would rather the matter dropped where it is." He nodded, and strode out after the managing director of Punsonby's. They made a little group of four. "Can I see you in my flat for a moment, Mr. White?" "Certainly," said Mr. White cheerfully. "You don't want us any more?" asked the detective. "No," said Mr. White; then: "Are you quite sure you searched the bottom drawer of the bureau?" "Perfectly sure," said the detective irritably, "you don't suppose I've been at this job for twenty years and should overlook the one place where I expected to find the letters." Mr. White was saved the labour of framing a suitable retort, for the door of Mr. Beale's flat was flung open and Mr. Beale came forth. His grey hat was on the back of his head and he stood erect with the aid of the door-post, surveying with a bland and inane smile the little knot of men. "Why," he said jovially, "it's the dear old doctor, and if my eyes don't deceive me, it's the jolly old Archbishop."