Mathison turned. He saw a small, brisk Irishman, with a humorous mouth and a pair of keenly intelligent eyes. He gave a sigh of relief. Here was some one who looked as if he had the gift of reason. Pray God that he had!
"Stand up!"
Mathison obeyed.
"Humph! Got anything to say?"
"No; except if you'll come to the room with me I'll give you the stuff. I know when I'm beaten."
"Who's this woman, Manon Roland?"
"Roland? Don't know anybody by that name."
"The woman you were asking questions about over the 'phone."
"So her name was Roland!"
"All right; we'll come back to her again. You used to travel alone. Why did you hook up? Pals always blow."