"And there was a postscript over the leaf telling you, on second thought, not to be here, but to wait at home for me," said Mr. Carr. "I remembered a matter of business that would take me up your way this morning, and thought I'd go on to you. It's just your careless fashion, Hartledon, reading only half your letters! You should have turned it over."
"Who was to think there was anything on the other side? Folk don't turn their letters over from curiosity when they are concluded on the first page."
"I never had a letter in my life but I turned it over to make sure," observed the more careful barrister. "I have had my walk for nothing."
"And I have been cooling my heels here! And you took the newspaper with you!"
"No, I did not. Churton sent in from his rooms to borrow it."
"Well, let the misunderstanding go, and forgive me for being cross. Do you know, Carr, I think I am growing ill-tempered from trouble. What news have you for me?"
"I'll tell you by-and-by. Do you know who that is in the other room?"
"Not I. He seemed to stare me inside-out in a quiet way as I let him in."
"Ay. It's Green, the detective. At times a question occurs to me whether that's his real name, or one assumed in his profession. He has come to report at last. Had you better remain?"
"Why not?"