“Good God; Puddles! What on earth . . . where have you sprung from?”
For a moment Poole struggled with an effort of memory; then a smile broke on his face, and he took a step forward with extended hand:
“Mangane! Laurence Mangane!”
Suddenly he checked himself and his hand dropped to his side, a peculiar expression replacing the smile on his face.
“Good-afternoon, sir,” he said.
A look of amazement came into Mangane’s face and he, too, checked his approach.
“ ‘Sir’?” he exclaimed. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Poole glanced round to see if anyone else was present.
“I’m Detective-Inspector Poole, sir,” he said.
Slowly Mangane’s face cleared and he broke into a broad grin.