He fell into his chair again, lit a cigarette, and sleepily turned over the pages of a book. Dr Sherlaw was away for a little time, and when he returned his cheerful face wore a somewhat mystified expression.
“Well?” asked Escott.
“Rather a rum case,” said his colleague, thoughtfully.
“What’s the matter?”
“Don’t know.”
“Who was it?”
“Don’t know that either.”
Escott opened his eyes.
“What happened, then?”
“Well,” said Sherlaw, drawing his chair up to the fire again, “I’ll tell you just what did happen, and you can make what you can out of it. Of course, I suppose it’s all right, really, but—well, the proceedings were a little unusual, don’t you know.