“Poor young chap! The times I’ve stopped outside listening to him on the flute, or blowing that cornet, or scraping away at the fiddle. Wonderful power of music in those fingers of his and lips.”
“And now all still, and stiff, and cold!” groaned Jerry.
“Hold up, man—hold up!” said the inspector, kindly. “Life is short, you know; but we never expected this—did we?”
Jerry shook his head.
“And so the other young gent’s getting better, is he?”
Jerry nodded.
“Yes, the doctor told me. I thought we’d got a big interesting case on there. Sensible?”
Jerry shook his head.
“Ah! That’s what the doctor said, and that he might not be really sensible for weeks. Narrow squeak for him, eh?”
“Yes.”