“From papers in possession of deceased, his identity has been verified as that of Mr. V. A. Jones, an American gentleman of Philadelphia, lately resident at the Savoy Hotel, Strand.”
Jones stood with the paper in his hand, appalled. Rochester had committed suicide!
This was the Jest—the black core of it. All last evening, all through that hilarity he had been plotting this. Plotting it perhaps from the first moment of their meeting. Unable to resist the prompting of the extraordinary likeness, this joker, this waster, done to the world, had left life at the end of a last jamboree, and with a burst of laughter—leaving another man in his clothes, nay, almost one might say in his body.
Jones saw the point of the thing at once.
PART II
CHAPTER VI
THE NET
He saw something else. He was automatically barred from the Savoy, and barred from the American Consul. And on top of that something else. He had committed a very grave mistake in accepting for a moment his position. He should have spoken at once that morning, spoken to “Mr. Church,” told his tale and made explanations, failing that he should have made explanations before leaving the house. He had left in Rochester’s clothes, he had acted the part of Rochester.