"You read a good report of the inquest?"
"No; I was at the inquest."
"Ah-h!" It was a long-drawn, deep breath. The eyes of the solicitor became suddenly introspective, and he lolled his head over his right shoulder as if in deep thought. "Why did you attend that inquest?"
"Well, for two reasons. First, I, as you of course know, was acquainted with the Davenports; and second, because the dearest friend I have in London was greatly interested in Mrs. Davenport. It's a long story."
"Is it? Ah-h! I am greatly interested in that story too."
"Are you? Why? I didn't think you knew the Davenports."
The solicitor straightened his head on his shoulders. His eyes were still turned inward.
"You are right so far. I did not know the Davenports. But do you remember a client of mine named Michael Fahey--commonly called Mike Fahey!"
"Let me see. That's a good while ago?"
"Ten or eleven years ago," said the solicitor, shaking his head in accord with his private thoughts rather than with his words.