“I wonder if you know any of the people I know? Do you know the Temples of Crawley Hall?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been farther west than this—Staffordshire—Derbyshire?”
“No, never.”
He was looking on the ground; he raised and fixed his eyes suddenly on my face as he said—
“Do you know the Dalstons?”
“N-o,” said I, rather hesitatingly.
“Not Lord Dalston, with his different crazes? You speak as if you were not sure.”
“I am sure I don’t know him,” said I. “But I was trying to remember what I have heard about him, for I seem to know the name quite well.”
In the most gravely persistent manner Mr. Carruthers went on probing my memory about Lord Dalston; but I could not even remember where I had heard the name mentioned before. He had to give it up at last; I believe however that he thought it was obstinacy that prevented my telling him.