“Because by that bait he produces the greatest disturbance of your niece’s garden.”
“And, if sane, why should he wish to do that?”
“Because in those conditions he can the more easily obliterate his own traces if he trespasses there at nights.”
“Well, upon my word, that’s drawing a bow at a venture, Max. If it isn’t burglary, what motive could the man have for any such nocturnal perambulation?”
An expression of suave mischief came into Carrados’s usually imperturbable face.
“Many imaginable motives surely, Louis. You are a man of the world. Why not to meet a charming little woman——”
“No, by gad!” exclaimed the scandalized uncle warmly; “I decline to consider the remotest possibility of that explanation. Elsie——”
“Certainly not,” interposed Carrados, smothering his quiet laughter. “The maid-servant, of course.”
Mr Carlyle reined in his indignation and recovered himself with his usual adroitness.
“But, you know, that is an atrocious libel, Max,” he added. “I never said such a thing. However, is it probable?”