And you are known to me—to us. To both Mr. Hyde and me. You were Mr. Varlie in New Zealand.
Gordon.
Yes, Varlie, there’s no mistaking you! You bought the freehold of my Station and all my sheep and I’m not likely to forget it.
Loveday.
And you travelled all over New Zealand, selling things under the name of Varlie, and you wouldn’t be pretending to be somebody else and a clergyman too, if you were honest. Besides (scornfully), I saw you buy that special secret poison from Roto, the old Maori, and you made very special enquiries about its use, too!
Smithers.
(As though recollecting something.) Varlie—Varlie—New Zealand. The secret service particular warned me against a man called Varlie who has been hauling in a lot of freehold in New Zealand under various names, and travelling for German American firms. We had lost track of him. (Joy spreading over his face.) You don’t mean to say he is John Varlie! Not John Varlie, Miss?
Loveday.
Yes, yes.
Gordon.