“That’s right,” said the unknown. Then as if in reply to a question: “I will have a wing, please.”
Jones cut a wing of the fowl, placed it in the extra plate which he had placed on one side of the table and presented it. The other cut himself some bread, helped himself to salad, salt and pepper and started eating, absolutely as though nothing unusual had occurred or was occurring.
For half a minute or so neither spoke. Then Jones said:
“Look here,” said he, “I want to make some explanations.”
“Explanations,” said the long man, “what about?”
Jones laughed.
“That sovereign which I put on the table and which I have put back in my pocket. I must apologise. Had I gone away before you returned that would have been left behind to show that your room had been entered neither by a hobo nor a burglar, nor by some cad who had committed an impertinence—perhaps you will believe that.”
The long man bowed.
“But,” went on Jones, “by a man who was driven by circumstances to seek hospitality without an invitation.”
The other had suddenly remembered the ham and had risen and was helping himself, his pince-nez which he wore on a ribbon and evidently only for reading purposes, dangling against his waistcoat-buttons.