Briscoe rather winced at this. However, he was glad to find Lee so tractable.
'Mr. Chartres,' he said, 'I am your friend, Mr. Peter Briscoe. I came from India with you. I'm a rough diamond; don't care how I dress—accounts for my rather worn toggery; see? Saved you from drowning when you fell overboard in the Bay of Biscay. You, eternally grateful; I, no friends in this country—across for a visit merely—came right north with you, agreeing to do so at the last moment, so that you had no time to advise them at Snell House.'
Lee gazed at his brother-in-law with admiration.
'Briscoe, my dear fellow,' he cried, 'you're a trump! You—you saved my life.'
'Then we'll take the road again,' said Briscoe. 'The house is round the corner; I inquired shortly before you came up.'
'Briscoe,' said Lee, 'for the first work of a newlyborn art, we are——'
'Beating the record.'
'Exactly, my rough and ready friend.'