“Well,” said Randal, with a long sigh, “she closed the incident herself. She gave me the trinket in her husband’s presence—and you can imagine Floyd-Rosney was all eyes.”
“She placed it on the table among the Ducie jewels the previous night,” said Adrian; “and, as I was occupied in reading the papers, I asked her pointedly to take charge of it. And she looked most awfully cheap as she repossessed herself of it.”
“Adrian, you really have a heart of stone in this connection,” smiled Randal, “and after she had been chiefly instrumental in restoring to us the Duciehurst papers and jewels!”
“What else could she do—commit a felony and keep them? I certainly entertain no fantastic magnanimity on that score.”
Randal laughed, but the solicitous Adrian fancied this phase of the subject might develop a menace to the future, and hastened to change the topic. “I wish you would come with me and confer with our lawyers to-day, Randal,” he suggested. “It is better to have both principals in interest present at any important consultation. I have an engagement with them at three,” drawing out his watch for a hasty glance.
“Agreed,” said Randal, springing up alertly. “Where’s your clothes-brush?—but no, I suppose there is not a speck of the dust of travel on me, for, when I tipped the man on the boat, he practically frayed all the nap off my clothes to show his gratitude. I am presentable, eh?”
He stood for a moment before the long mirror, then broke forth whimsically in affected alarm. “Adrian, who is this in the mirror, you or I? I am all mixed up. I can’t tell us apart. What are we going to do about it?” he continued, as if in great agitation, while Adrian, with a leisurely smile—for he had often taken part in this gambade, a favorite bit of fooling since their infancy—looked about for his hat.
“Let’s go downstairs and get somebody to pick us out,” suggested Randal, “for, really, I don’t want to be you, Adrian. You are too solemn and priggish; why, this must be I, for, if it were you, you would have said ‘piggish.’ You are so dearly fraternal. Don’t come near me, I don’t want to get mixed up again. I begin to know myself. This is I.”
But, notwithstanding this threatened peril of proximity, they walked down the street together, arm in arm, to the office of the counsel, followed by many a startled glance perceiving the wonderful resemblance, and sometimes a passing stranger of an uncultured grade came to a full halt in surprise and curiosity.
There were many consultations with the legal advisers in the days that ensued, which Randal Ducie found very irksome, accustomed as he was to an active outdoor life and a less labyrinthine species of thought than appertains to the purlieus of the law. Unexpected details continually developed concerning the interests involved. Mrs. Floyd-Rosney’s bill for divorce was filed in the meantime, and because it had a personal interest paramount to its importance in the Duciehurst case it brought up again the matter of taking her deposition in these proceedings which had been pretermitted by reason of affairs of greater magnitude.