“And when she found out you was a faker she set out to sue you for her money back.”
“No. Not that!” said Alibaba Singh energetically. “That’s not it. She doesn’t want her money back. She—she’s almost satisfied. She’s willing to accept what had happened philosophically. She’s almost content. Mr. Gubb, the reason I came to you was that I did not want her to land in—”
Alibaba Singh looked carefully around.
“I don’t want her to land in jail,” he whispered. “It would make trouble for me. The lady, Mr. Gubb, is Mrs. Henry K. Lippett.”
“Well?” queried Mr. Gubb.
“What I don’t know,” said Alibaba Singh, wiping his brow nervously, “is whether I did reincarnate her late husband or whether she’s liable to be arrested for stealing a—”
Alibaba Singh stopped short and arose hastily. Some one had knocked on Mr. Gubb’s door. Alibaba Singh moved toward the door.
“I don’t want to talk about this with anybody around,” he said nervously. “I’ll come back later. Not a word about it!”
He brushed past Mr. Gubb’s new visitor as he went out, and Mr. Gubb arose to greet the newcomer.
This third visitor was a large, red-faced man with an extremely loud vest. He wore a high hat of gray beaver, and a large but questionable diamond sparkled on his finger. He walked directly up to Mr. Gubb and shook hands.