"He's painting the lily," said Sage with a glint in his eye.
"In other words?" enquired Colonel Walton.
"Seeing how near he can get to this Bergen fellow. I took him down to the Tower to see the men together."
Colonel Walton nodded.
Malcolm Sage regarded disguise as exclusively the asset of the detective of fiction. A disguise, he maintained, could always be identified, although not necessarily penetrated. Few men could disguise their walk or bearing, no matter how clever they might be with the aid of false beards and wigs.
"You remember the lost code-book?" Sage queried.
"I do," said Colonel Walton.
"A remarkable piece of work of Finlay's," continued Sage. "It wasn't a disguise, it was an alteration; trim of moustache, cut and colour of hair, darkened skin and such trifles."
"And the black eye, sir," interpolated Thompson.
"That was certainly a happy stroke," cried Colonel Walton.