Mr Jarper acknowledged modestly that he was gay, but that he owed certain duties to society, and had to be mildly social.
‘And so handsome!’ croaked Slivers, winking with his one eye at Billy, who sat on the table. ‘Oh, he’s all there, ain’t he, Billy?’
Billy, however, did not agree to this, and merely observed ‘Pickles,’ in a disbelieving manner.
Mr Jarper felt rather overcome by this praise, and blushed in a modest way, but felt that he could not return the compliment with any degree of truth, as Slivers was not handsome, neither was he all there.
He, however, decided that Slivers was an unusually discerning person, and worthy to talk to, so prepared to make himself agreeable.
Slivers, who had thus gained the goodwill of the young man by flattery, plunged into the subject of Villiers’ disappearance.
‘I wonder what’s become of Villiers,’ he said, artfully pushing the whisky bottle toward Barty.
‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ said Barty in a languid, used-up sort of voice, pouring himself out some more whisky, ‘I haven’t seen him since last Monday week.’
‘Where did you leave him on that night?’ asked Slivers.
‘At the corner of Sturt and Lydiard Streets.’