“I suppose so.”
“You see,” said Ukridge, “I dislike subterfuge.”
There seemed no possibility of his beating this, so I left the man and resumed my researches.
After this I was out of town for a few weeks, taking my annual vacation. When I got back to Ebury Street, Bowles, my landlord, after complimenting me in a stately way on my sunburned appearance, informed me that George Tupper had called several times while I was away.
“Appeared remarkably anxious to see you, sir.”
I was surprised at this. George Tupper was always glad—or seemed to be glad—to see an old school friend when I called upon him, but he rarely sought me out in my home.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“No, sir. He left no message. He merely enquired as to the probable date of your return and expressed a desire that you would visit him as soon as convenient.”
“I’d better go and see him now.”
“It might be advisable, sir.”