The baron smokes on.
“I am told that you possibly are possessed of information which I have long been seeking in vain.”
Another nod.
“Monsieur Lebas, the unfortunate little Frenchman who was murdered here in London, was, I believe, in your employment?”
The baron here had a little fit of coughing.
Uncle David accepted this as an admission.
“He was acquainted with Mr. Longcluse?”
“Was he?” says the baron, removing and replacing his pipe quickly.
“Will you, Baron Vanboeren, be so good as to give me any information you possess respecting Mr. Longcluse? It is not, I assure you, from mere curiosity I ask these questions, and I hope you will excuse the trouble I give you.”
The baron took his pipe from his mouth, and blew out a thin stream of smoke.