"We're done, Gammon!" said Quirk, with a dismayed air. Gammon seemed lost, and made no answer.
"Does anything—eh?" quoth Quirk, with a troubled air. "Anything occur to you? Gammon, I will say this for you—you're a long-headed fellow!" Still Gammon spoke not.
"Gammon! Gammon! I really believe—ah?—you—you—begin to see something—don't you?"
"It's to be done, Mr. Quirk!" said Gammon, at length, with a grave and apprehensive look, and a cheek which had suddenly grown pale.
"Eh? how? Oh, I see!—Know what you mean, Gammon," replied Quirk, with a hurried whisper, glancing at both doors to see that they were safe.
"We must resume our intercourse with Titmouse, and let matters go on as before," said Gammon, with a very anxious, but, at the same time, a determined air.
"I—I wonder if what has occurred to you is what has occurred to me?" inquired Quirk, in an eager whisper.
"Pooh! pooh! Mr. Quirk."
"Gammon, dear Gammon, no mystery! You know I have a very deep stake in this matter!"
"So have I, Mr. Quirk," replied Gammon, with a sigh. "However"—Here the partners put their heads close together, and whispered to each other in a low, earnest tone, for some minutes. Quirk rose from his seat, and took two or three turns about the room in silence, Gammon watching him calmly.