"Oh!" Cornelius remembered and immediately felt easy in his mind. He had no reason for dreading his late landlord. He took the proffered hand.
"This is a surprise," he said. "Who would ever have expected to meet you here?"
"The same to you," said Kenly. He pointed to Jessel's glass. "Drink up and have another and tell how you are getting on," he said. "The missis will be pleased to hear, for she's always telling me that she's never likely to have such a nice gent in the house to do for, and she's always cracking on about your being obliged to leave, and how certain she is never to get another like you."
Cornelius smiled and emptied his glass. "Well, as you insist——" he said.
"Another of the same," said Kenly affably.
"And what brings you down here?" asked Cornelius.
"Taking my holiday," remarked Kenly expansively. "This is just the sort of a place that suits me. No sand, no niggers. Plenty of fresh air and sunshine, a boat to potter about in, and some of the real sort to drink when you're thirsty, that's the place that suits me down to the ground, so I'm here. I suppose you're down for a change, too?"
"Not exactly," replied Cornelius. "I have to combine business and pleasure, too." He took a long draught of the fresh brew which the barmaid handed to him, and, assuming his most important air, he changed the topic.
"I suppose Mrs. Kenly is with you?"
"Not much," answered the detective with a broad wink. "I know a bit too much to bring the missis on a holiday, and, if you are married, you'd understand."