“Then you think I'll split upon some rock? But that's beyond the question. To get to business again. You'll risk my studying your signature?”
Chilcote nodded.
“Right! Now item two.” Loder counted on his: fingers. “I must know the names and faces of your men friends as far as I can. Your woman friends don't count. While I'm you, you will be adamant.” He laughed again pleasantly. “But the men are essential—the backbone of the whole business.”
“I have no men friends. I don't trust the idea of friendship.”
“Acquaintances, then.”
Chilcote looked up sharply. “I think we score there,” he said. “I have a reputation for absent-mindedness that will carry you anywhere. They tell me I can look through the most substantial man in the House as if he were gossamer, though I may have lunched with him the same day.”
Loder smiled. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Fate Must have been constructing this before either of us was born. It dovetails ridiculously. But I must know your colleagues—even if it's only to cut them. You'll have to take me to the House.”
“Impossible!”
“Not at all!” Again the tone of authority fell to Loder. “I can pull my hat over my eyes and turn up my coat-collar. Nobody will notice me. We can choose the fall of the afternoon. I promise you 'twill be all right.”
“Suppose the likeness should leak out? It's a risk.”