The old man smiled wearily, but his voice was much the same as usual.
“I’m afraid I’ve given you a scare, without intending it, Mr. Wainwright. I owe you an apology. But you were plucky, Sir, and I—well, I took some risks too.”
“What does all this mean?” I repeated, with some annoyance in my tone.
“It’s hard to tell in a few words, Mr. Wainwright, but I haven’t risen from the dead. Yes, I see you looking at my clothes, but I haven’t been inside a grave, and no undertaker has handled me yet.”
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough of mysteries, Mr. Bateman?” I inquired impatiently.
“Surely—surely,” replied the old man, “but I want to give you time to recover yourself and——”
“I have quite recovered, thank you.”
“Everything but your temper, Mr. Wainwright, everything but your temper. You need to have that in hand before giving me advice.”
“You seek a strange hour for consultation, Mr. Bateman. Allow me to suggest an appointment for to-morrow morning.”