“I thought Lydgate never went to the Green Dragon?”
“So did I,” said Fred. “But he said that he went to see Bambridge.”
“He was not playing, then?”
Fred had not meant to tell this, but he was obliged now to say, “Yes, he was. But I suppose it was an accidental thing. I have never seen him there before.”
“You have been going often yourself, then, lately?”
“Oh, about five or six times.”
“I think you had some good reason for giving up the habit of going there?”
“Yes. You know all about it,” said Fred, not liking to be catechised in this way. “I made a clean breast to you.”
“I suppose that gives me a warrant to speak about the matter now. It is understood between us, is it not?—that we are on a footing of open friendship: I have listened to you, and you will be willing to listen to me. I may take my turn in talking a little about myself?”
“I am under the deepest obligation to you, Mr. Farebrother,” said Fred, in a state of uncomfortable surmise.