"I am happy to see you, Dr. Spenlove," Aaron responded; "if your business with Mr. Moss is not quite private you can speak freely before me."
"I think," said Dr. Spenlove, half hesitating, "that it is quite private."
"I have a distinct reason," continued Aaron as though Dr. Spenlove had not spoken, "for making the suggestion, but men sometimes receive an inspiration for which there is no visible warranty. If it is of an incident in the past you wish to speak, when you and Mr. Moss were acquainted in Portsmouth----"
"How singular that you should have guessed it!" exclaimed Dr. Spenlove. "It is such an incident that brings me here."
"The time was winter," pursued Aaron, "the season an inclement one. I remember it well. For some days the snow had been falling----"
"Yes, yes. It was a terrible season for the poor."
"For one especially, a lady driven into misfortune and who had no friend but a stern and honorable gentleman who would only lift her from the depths into which she had fallen on the condition that she submitted to a cruel sacrifice. His demand was that she should give her infant into the care of strangers, and that only in the event of his death should she be free to seek to know its fate. Is that the incident, Dr. Spenlove?"
"It is. I see you know all, and with Mr. Moss' consent I will speak openly."
Mr. Moss looked at Aaron, who nodded, and Dr. Spenlove continued.
"There is no need to recall all the particulars of that bitter night when you so kindly assisted me in the search for the unfortunate?"