“Well,” said Cavendish, “I don’t think we need ask any more questions of Mr. Jones; we are convinced, I believe, that Mr. Jones and—er—the Earl of Rochester are different.”
“Quite so,” said Simms, “we are sure of his bonafides and of course it is for the family to decide how to meet this extraordinary situation. I am sure they will sympathize with Mr. Jones and make no trouble. It is quite evident he had no wrong intent.”
“Now you are talking,” said Jones.
“Quite so—One more question, does it seem to you I have not been talking at all up to this?”
Jones laughed. “It seems to me you have uttered one word or two—ask a bee in a bottle, has it been buzzing.”
The cadaverous Cavendish, who, from his outward appearance presented no signs of a sense of humour, exploded at this hit, but Simms remained unmoved.
“Quite so,” said he. “Well, that’s all that remains to be said—but, now as a professional man, has not all this tried you a good deal, Mr. Jones?—I should think it was enough to try any man’s health.”
“Oh, my health is all right,” said Jones. “I can eat and all that, but, times, I’ve felt as if I wasn’t one person or the other, that’s one of my main reasons for quitting, leaving aside other things. You see I had to carry on up to a certain point, and, if you’ll excuse me blowing my own horn, I think I’ve not done bad. I could have put my claws on all that money—If I hadn’t been a straight man, there’s a lot of things I could have done, ’pears to me. Well, now that everything is settled, I think that ought to be taken into consideration. I don’t ask much, just a commission on the money salved.”
“Decidedly,” said Simms. “In my opinion you are quite right. But as a professional man my concern just a moment ago was about your health.”
“Oh, the voyage back to the States will put that right.”