"I came to ask you to explain why you're tracking me in the legitimate pursuit of my business. You will agree, I think, that it looks fishy."
"I don't know anything about it," he said crossly. "I don't know you."
"I will wait while you enquire," I said mildly.
He went into his outer office. In about five minutes he returned bringing a younger man.
"Well, you seem to have the goods on us, Enderby," he said ruefully. "It was a small job and I was not consulted."
"Our client never told us you were a detective," said the other man.
"I will make the excuses," said his employer dryly. "Describe the man who engaged us to trail Mr. Enderby."
"Gave his name as Lawlor. Fleshy man about forty-five years old. Red face, big black or dark brown moustache. Wears a cutaway coat and silk hat, very active in his movements."
"Has unusually large feet," I added, "which he slaps down in a peculiar way when he walks."
"Why, yes," said the young man, surprised. "You know him?"