"You agreed to give me an interview," he said to Sir James.
"That is so," Sir James replied. "You wanted to see my nephew, I think, and since we may talk about Stannard, I would like Mr. Deering to join us."
They went to the rotunda and the stranger pulled out some documents. He was old and rather fat, but his clothes were fastidiously neat and his glance was keen.
"You know I'm Mayson, and my London address is on my card," he said. "The card does not state my occupation, but I lend money."
"I imagined something like that," said Sir James. "Stannard was your partner?"
"He was my agent. Stannard belonged to exclusive sporting clubs I could not join; but perhaps this is not important. I understand you are satisfied he is dead?"
Deering nodded. "Nothing made of flesh and blood could stand for his plunge down the rocks."
"Since he was a famous mountaineer, I expect you thought his carelessness strange."
"I have some grounds to think you could account for it," said Deering dryly.
"We will talk about this again," said Mayson and turned to Sir James. "Mr. Leyland owes me a large sum; I have brought his notes."