Hurd listened attentively. "Oh," said he, with a world of meaning, "so Mr. Grexon Hay was with you? Hum! Do you suppose he pushed you into the road on purpose?"
"No," said Paul, staring, "I'm sure he didn't. What had he to gain by acting in such a way?"
"Money, you may be sure," said Hurd. "That gentleman never does anything without the hope of a substantial reward. Hush! We'll talk of this when you're better, Mr. Beecot. You say the brooch was lost."
"Yes. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I fell under the wheels of that machine. I believe there were a number of loafers and ragged creatures about, so it is just possible I may hear it has been picked up. I've sent an advertisement to the papers."
Hurd shook his head. "You won't hear," he said. "How can you expect to when you know the brooch was used to seal the dead man's lips?"
"I forgot that," said Paul, faintly. "My memory—"
"Is not so good as it was." Hurd rose. "I'll go, as I see you are exhausted. Good-bye."
"Wait! You'll keep me advised of how the case goes?"
"Certainly, if the doctors will allow me to. Good-bye," and Hurd went away very well satisfied with the information he had obtained.