“Why can’t you explain it to both of us at once?” said the Major. “That is to say if there is any explanation of the way you’ve been going on.”
“There are two explanations,” said Dr. O’Grady, “one for you and one for Doyle. I can’t give them both at once, because they’re different. I should have thought you’d have seen that for yourself.”
“I don’t see how there can be two explanations,” said the Major, “not two true ones. But of course they’re neither of them that.”
“They’re both quite true,” said Dr. O’Grady, “but they’re different, of course, because you and Doyle look at everything from such different points of view. Now do trot along, Major, and don’t interrupt me any more. That American may be back at any moment. I don’t believe Gallagher will be able to keep him in play for very long.”
He took Major Kent by the shoulders as he spoke and pushed him some little way along the street. Then he returned to Doyle.
“Now then, Doyle,” he said, “you’ve done pretty well over that filly. Strictly speaking, you owe me £7 10s. But I’m not going to say a word about that.”
“Seeing that you owe me £60,” said Doyle, “it’ll maybe be as well for you not.”
“What I do want to talk about,” said Dr. O’Grady, “is General John Regan.”
“If you tell me who he was,” said Doyle, “I’ll be content.”
“I don’t see that it matters in the least to you who he was. Look here now, Doyle. You’re a business man, and among other things you sell whisky. Now suppose someone was to walk into your hotel and tell you to forward ten dozen bottles of whisky—the best you had—to his aunt, and supposing that he told his aunt’s name was Regan, would you go questioning and cross-questioning every man you met as to whether there really was an old lady called Miss Regan at the address he gave you?”