"Oh, you are. And how do you come to know him?"
"Singular accident. The kind of thing that is constantly happening in London. Lord Polperro is living next door to an old friend of mine, a man I haven't seen for some seven or eight years till the other day. I happened to hear of my friend's address, called upon him, and there met his lordship. Now wasn't it a strange thing, Gammon? Just when you and I were so interested in a certain puzzle, a delightful bit of genealogy. Lord Polperro and I quite took to each other. He seemed to like my chat, and, in fact, we have been seeing a good deal of each other for a week or two."
"You kept this to yourself, Gammon."
"For a sufficient reason—anything but a selfish one. You, I may remark, also made a discovery and kept it to yourself."
"It was my own business."
"Certainly. Don't dream that I find fault with you, my dear fellow. It was the most natural thing in the world. Now let me explain. I grieve to tell you that Lord Polperro is in very poor health. To be explicit, he is suffering from a complication of serious disorders, among them disease of the heart." He paused to let his announcement have its full effect. "You will understand why I am here to represent him. Lord Polperro dare not, simply dare not, expose himself to an agitating interview; it might—it probably would—cost him his life. Miss Sparkes, I am sure you would not like to see your noble relative fall lifeless at your feet?"
Polly looked at Gammon, who, in spite of wrath, could not help smiling.
"He didn't do it in Lincoln's Inn Fields, Greenacre."
"He did not; but I very greatly fear that those meetings—of course I have heard of them—helped to bring about the crisis under which he is now suffering, as also did a certain other meeting which you will recollect, Gammon. Pray tell me, did Lord Polperro seem to you in robust health?"
"Can't say he did. Looked jolly seedy."