'Thanks,' said the latter huskily. 'When you say this morning, of course you mean this afternoon, but thanks all the same—thanks—thanks.'
'No, Archibald Mealing, he does not mean this afternoon,' said Mrs Milsom. 'Stuyvesant, speak! From what train did that guf—did Mr Mealing alight when he dropped the tobacco-pouch?'
'The ten o'clock, the fellow told me. Said he would have given it back to him then only he sprinted off in the deuce of a hurry.'
Six eyes focused themselves upon Archibald.
'Margaret,' he said, 'I will not try to deceive you—'
'You may try,' observed Mrs Milsom, 'but you will not succeed.'
'Well, Archibald?'
Archibald fingered his collar.
'There was no taximeter accident.'
'Ah!' said Mrs Milsom.