“Miller!”
“Well?”
“I am going to ask you a good many queer questions to-day, for a private purpose of my own; will you agree to answer them candidly?”
“If I can.”
“And not to think me insane, or absurd, or stupid?”
“Of course I should not think so.”
“Very well,” said Ephraim; “and when we are done, I may explain why I asked them, and perhaps you can solve a mystery for me.”
They reached the house and entered it. The first thing Miller did was to proceed to the side-board, fill two glasses with wine from a decanter, and ask Ephraim to drink.
“Thank you,” said Ephraim, “I never touch it.”
Miller looked at him for a moment in amazement. He concluded that this must be one of the phases of Batterby’s newly-developed queerness. So he emptied his own glass and put it down.