He handed me a card, on which was printed, "Mr. Nettlefold, The Elms, Ealing."
"I never heard of you," I said, putting the card on the table.
"I can't help that," he responded. "Perhaps it will expedite matters if I inform you that I do not come from Dr. Peterssen direct. Before presenting myself to you I paid a visit to Mr. Bob Tucker."
I was confounded. Was the cunning scheme suggested by Bob, and to carry out which I had enlisted Sophy's services, to be nipped in the bud?
"Mr. Tucker," continued Mr. Nettlefold, "refused all explanations, and referred me to you, who, it seems, are the prime mover in this affair."
"In what affair?"
"As you are aware, Dr. Peterssen resides at Tylney House, Sheldon. He desires this fact to be widely known, having no motives for secrecy. Mr. Bob Tucker has been prowling about this neighborhood lately, making inquiries concerning Dr. Peterssen, and prying into his private affairs in a manner to which Dr. Peterssen does not propose to submit."
"A nice mess Bob has made of it," I thought. "What a fool I was to trust to him!"
"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Nettlefold, "did you speak?"
"I did not."