“I wasn't sure you'd see it, and I didn't think you'd fall for it if you did,” he observed. “But I was pretty sure you didn't want me to see Melis. Now I know it.”
“Well, I didn't,” Gregory said sullenly.
“Just the same, I expect to see him. The day's early yet, and that's not a common name. But I'll take darned good care you don't get any more letters from here.”
“What do you think Melis can tell you, that you don't know?”
“I'll explain that to you some day,” Bassett said cheerfully. “Some day when you are in a more receptive mood than you are now. The point at this moment seems to me to be, what does Melis know that you don't want me to know? I suppose you don't intend to tell me.”
“Not here. You may believe it or not, Bassett, but I was going to your town to-night to see you.”
“Well,” Bassett said sceptically, “I've got your word for it. And I've got nothing to do all day but to listen to you.”
To his proposition that they go to his hotel Gregory assented sullenly, and they moved out to find a taxicab. On the pavement, however, he held back.
“I've got a right to know something,” he said, “considering what he's done to me and mine. Clark's alive, I suppose?”
“He's alive all right.”