"Sir Haselton Jardine? Is that the lawyer?"
"Yes. I suppose he's the greatest barrister at the Bar just now."
"Didn't I see that he was going to have something to do with this murder there's all the stir about?"
I had to let it out--I could not help it. So far as any effect which the allusion had upon my visitor was concerned I need not have tried. He never turned a hair. I was watching the white hands, which were resting on his knee. Not a muscle quivered.
He replied to my question without a moment's hesitation, and in his ordinary tone of voice.
"He tells me that he's going to prosecute. He seems rather eager about the business, too. If the chap is guilty I don't fancy Jardine will let him slip."
I was still for a moment. I looked into my visitor's eyes with wonder, and--I don't mind owning it--with admiration. This was the sort of man it was worth one's while to know--he was a man.
"Don't you think the affair is rather an odd one?"
"Very odd, indeed--and not the least odd part of it is that I know this fellow Tennant very well."
"No!" I was startled.