"What suspicion?"
"That the real Salter is in hiding at Foxwood."
Karl's heart beat a shade faster. "So far from having any suspicion of that kind, I am perfectly certain, now that you have proved to me Smith is not Salter, that he is not at Foxwood. I know every soul in the place and around it."
"Were you acquainted with the real Salter, Sir Karl?"
"No."
"You take no interest in him, I presume?"
"None whatever."
During the conversation they had been slowly pacing onwards, had passed the Court gates, and were now fairly on the road to Foxwood. It seemed as if Sir Karl had a mind to escort Mr. Tatton to his home.
"By the way," he said, "why did you call yourself Strange down here?"
"I never did," answered Tatton, laughing slightly. "The widow Jinks gave me that name: I never gave it myself. I said to her I was a stranger, and she must have misunderstood me; for I found afterwards that she was calling me Mr. Strange. It was rather convenient than otherwise, and I did not set it right."