"What good," I said, addressing Carton, "can you, in reason, expect to accomplish by wearing yourself out in the way you are doing?"
"It will lead me to the end," replied Carton, putting his hand to his forehead; and there was in his tone, despite his denial, a dreaminess which confirmed Mr. Dowsett's remark, "and then I do not care what becomes of me!"
Mr. Dowsett gazed at his ward solicitously, and passed his arm around him sympathisingly.
"Would it be a liberty, sir," said Carton, "to ask what brings you here?"
"I came on a visit to an old friend," I replied evasively, "whom I have not seen for years, and who wished to consult me upon her private affairs."
"Pardon me for my rudeness," he said, with a pitiful, deprecatory movement of his shoulders. "In what you have undertaken for Mr. Portland, will you accept my assistance?"
"If I see that it is likely to be of any service, yes, most certainly."
"Give me something to do," he said in a husky tone, "give me some clue to follow. This suspense is maddening."
"I will do what I can. And now I must leave you. My friend will wonder what is detaining me."
"But one word more, sir. Have you heard any news of Mary?"