'I beg your pardon for having intruded, and hope I'll be excused.'
'Your name?'
'Merrett--James Merrett. And yours?'
'I am Father Anthony Coppard. Now that I regard you more attentively, I perceive that the resemblance is greater than I at first realised. You interest me, Mr. Merrett. May I ask you to favour me with your address, so that, perhaps, I may have the pleasure of seeing you again.'
'If you'll let me have yours, I'll come and call on you.'
'You prefer it that way? Well, as you please. I am content. Here is my card, Mr. Merrett. Let me know when you are coming; and--be sure you come.'
Father Anthony Coppard bestowed on Mr. Merrett, with his card, a glance which was full of meaning.
As the two visitors were going down the steps, Mr. Merrett put up his hand to smooth his chin. He appeared to be lost in a maze of wonder.
'Well, this beats anything I've ever heard of. If I hadn't seen him with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it--that two men could be so alike. Why, if I hadn't seen him in a looking-glass I might have mistaken him for me.'
'I'm sure I apologise, Mr. Babbacombe, if I seem to have doubted anything you may have said, but as you observed, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Nobody could.'