“I see her,” said I. “What about her?”
“That’s Omega’s second daughter.”
“Oh, Omega,” I murmured. “Haven’t seen him for ages. What’s he doing with himself? Do you ever meet him nowadays?”
Said Mr. Alpha:
“I happened to dine with him—it was chiefly on business—a couple of days before I fell ill. Remarkably strange cove, Omega—remarkably strange.”
“Why? How? And what’s the matter with the cove’s second daughter, anyway?”
“Well,” said Alpha, “it’s all of a piece—him and his second daughter and the rest of the family. Funny case. It ought to interest you. Omega’s got a mania.”
“What mania?”
“Not too easy to describe. Call it the precaution mania.”
“The precaution mania? What’s that?”