"You'll have to ask Stannard," replied Martin, feeling at his unshaven chin. "He'll be along in a moment.’'
"Mr. Stannard didn't come back with you?"
"No."
"Isn't that rather odd?"
"Nothing odd about it I didn't feel like having company, that's all."
Martin started to take a step up, but the doctor detained him.
"Mr. Drake. One other matter. I could not—" Dr. Laurier emphasized the words more than italics can convey—"speak of this in the presence of others. I want to say a word or two; then ask you not to remember it"
"Of course."
Dr. Laurier peered behind him. In the dining-room, the tall curtains of heavy red velvet were still drawn closely. The light of a single small bulb in a wall lamp touched his grey hair, his pince-nez. Martin remembered him silhouetted against a different radiance. v
"Mr. Drake. My slip with the rapier was honestly an accident."