“Not yet, Prince,” he said.
“Not yet,” the Prince echoed. “Dear me, that is very unfortunate!”
Inspector Jacks watched the people who were passing, for a moment, with a fixed, unseeing gaze.
“I am afraid,” he said, “that we must seem to you very slow and very stupid. Very likely we are. And yet, yet in time we generally reach our goal. Sometimes we go a long way round. Sometimes we wait almost over long, but sooner or later we strike.”
The Prince nodded sympathetically.
“The best of fortune to you, Mr. Jacks!” he said. “I wish you could have cleared these matters up before I left for home. It is pure selfishness, of course, but I have always felt a great interest in your work.”
“If we do not clear them up before you leave the country, Prince,” the Inspector answered, “I fear that we shall never clear them up at all.”
The Prince passed on smiling. A conversation with Inspector Jacks seemed always to inspire him. It was a fine afternoon and Pall Mall was crowded. In a few moments he came face to face with Somerfield, who greeted him a little gloomily.
“Sir Charles,” the Prince said, “I hope that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you at Devenham?”
“I am not sure,” Somerfield answered. “I have been asked, but I promised some time ago to go up to Scotland. I have a third share in a river there, and the season for salmon is getting on.”