Smith took such jibes in good part. He knew full well that to attempt to argue with his master would produce a list of previous convictions.
Then Brett proceeded to amaze Winter in his turn, giving him a full, true, and complete history of events since his parting from Mrs. Capella in the corridor.
He had barely finished the recital when Smith returned with a note:
“Yes; she came in at 10.45, and has since retired for the night. She says that her head ached, that she wanted to be alone, and went for a long walk. Seemed rather to resent our anxiety. Helen and I will be glad when we are all safely away from London. D.H.”
The barrister pondered over this communication for a long time.
“I fear,” he said at last, “that I came away from Middle Street a few minutes too soon. To tell the truth, I was in an abject state of fear. Next time I meet Mr. Frazer the Third I will be ready for him.”
“Is he really so like the others that he might be mistaken for one of them?”
“In a sense, yes. He has the same figure, general conformation, and features. But in other respects he is utterly different. Have you ever seen a great actor in the role of Mephistopheles?”
“I don’t remember. My favourite villain was Barry Sullivan as Richard III.”
Brett laughed hysterically.