“I don’t trust you at all,” said the lawyer.
CHAPTER VI
THE RED ENVELOPE
Mr. Spedding, the admirable lawyer, lived on Clapham Common, where he owned the freehold of that desirable residence, “High Holly Lodge.”
He was a bachelor, with a taste for bridge parties and Madeira. Curious neighbors would have been mystified if they had known that Mr. Spedding’s repair bill during the first two years of his residence was something well over three thousand pounds. What they did know was that Mr. Spedding “had the builders in” for an unconscionable time, that they were men who spoke in a language entirely foreign to Clapham, and that they were housed during the period of renovation in a little galvanized iron bungalow erected for the purpose in the grounds.
A neighbor on visiting terms expressed his opinion that for all the workmen had done he could discern no material difference in the structure of the house, and from his point of view the house presented the same appearance after the foreign builders left, as it did before their advent. Mr. Spedding met all carelessly-applied questions concerning the extent of the structural alterations with supreme discretion. He spoke vaguely about a new system of ventilation, and hinted at warmth by radiation.
Suburbia loves to show off its privately conceived improvements to property, but Mr. Spedding met veiled hints of a desire to inspect his work with that comfortable smile which was so valuable an asset of his business.
It was a few evenings after the scene in the Lombard Street Deposit that Mr. Spedding sat in solitude before his modest dinner at Clapham.
An evening newspaper lay by the side of his chair, and he picked it up at intervals to read again the paragraph which told of the release of the “Borough Lot.” The paragraph read:—
“The men arrested in connection with the gambling raid at Poplar were discharged to-day, the police, it is understood, failing to secure sufficient evidence to justify a prosecution.”
The lawyer shook his head doubtfully.