“I’m sure it was altogether Godfrey’s,” I said. “The thing which surprises me is that nobody ever did it before. Godfrey is nearly thirty, so for twenty years at least every man he has met must have been tempted to break his ribs. We must, in spite of what everybody says, be a Christian nation. If we were not—”
“He would keep following me about,” said Bob. “I told him several times to clear away and go home. But he wouldn’t.”
“He has a fixed idea that you’re engaged in smuggling.”
“Even if I was,” said Bob, “it would be no business of his.”
“That’s just why he mixes himself up in it. If it had been his business he wouldn’t have touched it. There’s nothing Godfrey hates more than doing anything he ought to do.”
“I’m awfully glad you take it that way,” said Bob. “I was afraid—”
“My dear fellow,” I said, “I’m delighted. But you haven’t told me yet exactly how it happened.”
“I was moving a packing-case,” said Bob, “a rather large one—”
He hesitated. I think he felt that the packing-case might require some explanation, especially as it was being moved at about eleven o’clock at night. I hastened to reassure him.