“I reckon,” said Mr. Billing, “that he kind of wandered from the path of truth.”
“Young Kerrigan isn’t married,” said the doctor.
“The twins,” said Mr. Billing, “were an effort of imagination. I am a man of imagination myself, so I’m not complaining any.”
“Being a newspaper editor you have to be, of course,” said Dr. O’Grady. “But Gallagher’s story wasn’t pure imagination. It was rather what I’d call prophetic. The fact is young Kerrigan is going to be married. Gallagher only anticipated things a bit. I daresay he thought the ceremony had really taken place. He didn’t mean to deceive you in any way. Did you, Thady?”
He looked round as he spoke. He wanted Gallagher to confirm what he said.
“He’s within,” said Constable Moriarty, grinning, “and I wouldn’t say but he’s having a drink. Anyway, here’s Mr. Doyle.”
Doyle, having supplied Gallagher with a bottle of porter, came out of the hotel. He was naturally anxious to hear Dr. O’Grady’s explanation.
“The twins,” said Mr. Billing, “were considerable previous.”
“Not so much as you might think,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Once people get married, you know, Mr. Billing, it often happens—generally in fact—not necessarily twins, but more or less that kind of thing. I can quite understand Thady making the mistake. And the girl young Kerrigan’s going to marry really is a grandniece of the General’s. Thady was quite right there.”
“I’d like to see her,” said Mr. Billing. “I’d like to take a photograph of her. The Bolivian public will be interested in a photograph of General John Regan’s grandniece.”