"I cannot tell," he answered. "The small modicum of powder I have collected is in its present state valueless except as a destroyer."
"As a destroyer?"
"Yes. The minutest portion of it dissolved in a glass of water is sudden death. But these are matters in which you cannot be expected to take an interest."
"Pardon me, doctor. To all men of intelligence such matters are of the deepest interest"--I was proceeding when he waved the subject away.
"It is not of my scientific experiments you have come to speak. I see by your card"--he referred to it--"that you are a detective officer."
"My name is tolerably well known," I said, and he stopped me again.
"To members of the criminal classes, no doubt. I am behind the age, I am afraid."
If he thought to mortify me by implying that he had never heard of me he did not succeed. "It is known to others outside those classes. You have read my evidence in the case?"
"In what case?"
"The Catchpole Square case."