“Next thing was, I asked the doctor what name I should give. He answered in a kind of nervous way, ‘No name; you needn’t give any name. I know Dr Congleton personally. Ask him to come, please.’ So off I tooled, and found old Congers just thinking of turning in.
“ ‘My clients are sometimes unnecessarily discreet’, he remarked in his pompous way when I told him about the arrival, and of course he added his usual platitude about our reputation for discretion.
“I went back with him to the waiting-room, and just stood at the door long enough to see him hail the doctor chap very cordially and be introduced to the patient’s cousin, and then I came away. Rather rum, isn’t it?”
“You’ve certainly made the best of the yarn,” said Escott with a laugh.
“By George, if you’d been there you’d have thought it funny too.”
“Well, good-night, I’m off. We’ll probably hear to-morrow what it’s all about.”
But in the morning there was little more to be learned about the new-comer’s history and antecedents. Dr Congleton spoke of the matter to the two young men, with the pompous cough that signified extreme discretion.
“Brought by an old friend of mine,” he said. “A curious story, Escott, but quite intelligible. There seem to be the best reasons for answering no questions about him; you understand?”
“Certainly, sir,” said the two assistants, with the more assurance as they had no information to give.
“I am perfectly satisfied, mind you—perfectly satisfied,” added their chief.