"It is curious, sir."
"I should suppose it can only arise from a desire that he should be taken for you," continued Mr. Ashley. "But to what end? Why should he walk there at all?"
"Why, indeed!" responded William.
"What coloured gloves are you wearing?" abruptly interrupted Sergeant Delves.
William took his hands from beneath his cloak, and held them out. They were of the darkest possible colour, next to black; the shade called in the glove trade "corbeau." "These are all I have in use at present," he said. "They are nearly new."
"Have you worn any light gloves lately? Tan or fawn?"
"I scarcely ever wear tan gloves. I have not put on a pair for months."
They arrived at the butcher's and entered. White was standing at his block, chopping a bone in two. He lifted his head, and touched his hair to Mr. Ashley.
"Is this the gentleman who had the money of you for the cheque?" began Sergeant Delves, without circumlocution.
Mr. White put down his chopper, and took a survey of William. "It's like the cloak and cap that the other wore," said he.