"Well, Hugo, and how are you?" asked the lawyer, who did not regard Mrs. Luttrell's nephew with any particular degree of favour. "What brings you to this part of the world again?"
"My aunt's invitation," said Hugo.
"Ah, yes; your aunt has a hankering after anybody of the name of Luttrell, at present. It won't last. Don't trust to it, Hugo."
"I cannot say that I know what you mean, Mr. Colquhoun. I suppose I am at liberty to accept my aunt's repeated and pressing invitation? I came here to ask you a question. I will not trespass on your time longer than I can help."
"Ask away, lad," said the old lawyer, not much impressed by Hugo's stateliness of demeanour. "Ask away. You'll get no lies, at any rate. And what is it you're wanting now?"
"Have you any reason to suppose that my cousin Brian is not dead?"
"No," said Mr. Colquhoun, shortly. "I haven't. I wish I had. Have you?"
Without replying to this question, Hugo asked another.
"You have no reason to think that there is any other man who would call himself by that name?"
"No," said Mr. Colquhoun again, "I haven't. And I don't wish I had. But have you?"