“You've the advantage of me, sir,” he said. “Dr. Bryce, I see. But—”
Bryce smiled and dropped into a garden chair at Glassdale's side.
“You needn't be afraid of talking to me,” he answered. “I'm well known in Wrychester. The Duke,” he went on, nodding his head in the direction of the great house which lay behind the woods at the foot of the garden, “knows me well enough—in fact, I was on my way to see his Grace now, to ask him if he could tell me where you could be found. The fact is, I'm aware of what happened last night—the jewel affair, you know—Mitchington told me—and of your friendship with Braden, and I want to ask you a question or two about Braden.”
Glassdale, who had looked somewhat mystified at the beginning of this address, seemed to understand matters better by the end of it.
“Oh, well, of course, doctor,” he said, “if that's it—but, of course—a word first!—these folk here at the inn don't know who I am or that I've any connection with the Duke on that affair. I'm Mr. Gordon here—just staying for a bit.”
“That's all right,” answered Bryce with a smile of understanding. “All this is between ourselves. I saw you with the Duke and the rest of them last night, and I recognized you just now. And all I want is a bit of talk about Braden. You knew him pretty well of late years?”
“Knew him for a good many years,” replied Glassdale. He looked narrowly at his visitor. “I suppose you know his story—and mine?” he asked. “Bygone affairs, eh?”
“Yes, yes!” answered Bryce reassuringly. “No need to go into that—that's all done with.”
“Aye—well, we both put things right,” said Glassdale. “Made restitution—both of us, you understand. So that is done with? And you know, then, of course, who Braden really was?”
“John Brake, ex bank-manager,” answered Bryce promptly. “I know all about it. I've been deeply interested and concerned in his death. And I'll tell you why. I want to marry his daughter.”