"About that."
"Well, Salter, they say, would be now only five-and-thirty. I don't attach much importance to the disparity!" added Karl: "Salter's trouble may have prematurely aged him."
"What shall you do in it?" she resumed after a pause. "It seems to me that if we could get Smith removed so as to leave Adam, in that sense, free, the half of our dreadful trouble would be over."
"I don't know what I shall do," replied Karl. "It will not do to stir an inch, as to the bringing it home to Smith, unless I am sure and certain. At present, Rose, it seems to be for me only another care added to the rest."
"Karlo, old fellow, is that you?" interrupted a voice from the passage window over the porch. "What on earth do you stay chattering to the wife for? I want you."
Karl looked up, nodded to his brother, and went in. Adam was in his customary evening attire, and just as gay as usual. He waited for Karl at the head of the stairs and they went together into the sitting-room that was always used at night. This sitting-room had a second door; one in the paneling, not visible to a casual observer. It communicated with a passage that nothing else communicated with; the passage communicated with a spiral staircase, and that with nobody knew what or where. Had Adam Andinnian been surprised in his retreat by his enemies, it was by that private door he would have made his escape, or tried to do it.
"Rose says you are not very well, Adam: that you are feeling the pain again," began Karl. "What do you think it is?"
"Goodness knows: I don't," returned Adam. "My opinion is, that I must in some way have given my inside a deuce of a wrench. I don't tell Rose that: she'd set on and worry herself."
"I hope it is nothing serious--that it will soon pass off. You see, Adam, the cruel difficulty we should be in, if you were to require medical advice."
"Oh, bother!" cried Adam.