"A patient and a personal friend. His address is Forty-nine Nevill's
Court."
"Thank you, thank you. Oh, and as you are a friend, perhaps you can inform me as to the customs of the household. I am not expected, and I do not wish to make an untimely visit. What are Mr. Bellingham's habits as to his evening meal? Would this be a convenient time to call?"
"I generally make my evening visits a little later than this—say about half-past eight; they have finished their meal by then."
"Ah! Half-past eight, then? Then I suppose I had better take a walk until that time. I don't want to disturb them."
"Would you care to come in and smoke a cigar until it is time to make your call? If you would, I could walk over with you and show you the house."
"That is very kind of you," said my new acquaintance, with an inquisitive glance at me through his spectacles. "I think I should like to sit down. It's a dull affair, mooning about the streets, and there isn't time to go back to my chambers—in Lincoln's Inn."
"I wonder," said I, as I ushered him into the room lately vacated by
Miss Oman, "if you happen to be Mr. Jellicoe."
He turned his spectacles full on me with a keen, suspicious glance.
"What makes you think I am Mr. Jellicoe?" he asked.
"Oh, only that you live in Lincoln's Inn."
"Ha! I see. I live in Lincoln's Inn; Mr. Jellicoe lives in Lincoln's Inn; therefore I am Mr. Jellicoe. Ha! ha! Bad logic, but a correct conclusion. Yes, I am Mr. Jellicoe. What do you know about me?"