"I told him I 'd do it," said Denry.
"Why?"
"I thought it might be safer for you" said Denry with a certain emphasis. "And, besides, it looked as if it might be a bit of a lark. He's a very peculiar chap."
"Peculiar?"
"For one thing, he's got the largest moustaches of any man I ever saw. And there 's something up with his left eye. And then I think he's a bit mad."
"Mad?"
"Well, touched. He's got a notion about building a funny sort of a house for himself on a plot of land at Bleakridge. It appears he is fond of living alone, and he's collected all kind of dodges for doing without servants and still being comfortable."
"Ay! But he 's right there!" breathed Mrs. Machin in deep sympathy. As she said about once a week, "she never could abide the idea of servants." "He's not married, then?" she added.
"He told me he 'd been a widower three times, but he 'd never had any children," said Denry.
"Bless us!" murmured Mrs. Machin.