Shafto felt for a moment or so relieved, and said:
'What the devil do you mean? You had a properly attested certificate of my birth?'
'Attested—yes.'
'Was that not all-sufficient, even for your legal mind?'
'Not—now.'
'Why not now?'
'Because I remember that it is mutilated.'
Shafto winced.
'It is there, however,' said Mr. Kippilaw, pointing with his pen to a green charter box labelled 'Fettercairn,' and Shafto thought that if he did not adopt a high tone he might fail in the matter.
'You scoundrel,' he exclaimed, as he smashed his cane on the writing-table, scattering letters and documents in every direction; 'doubt of my identity is an insult now!'