He paused for a moment.
“And I’ve said blast. That’s the sort of man, Mr. Carp, that you’ve turned me into.”
“But, my dear Mr. Stool,” I said, “as your future brother-in-law——”
“Yes. But I’m not at all sure,” he said, “that you will be.”
Had I been erect, I should certainly have fallen. And indeed, as it was, I barely retained consciousness.
“But, Ezekiel,” I cried, “Mr. Stool, surely you haven’t forgotten your word of honour.”
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “I haven’t. But then you were a man without moral stain.”
“And am I not now?” I asked. “Am I not now, Mr. Stool? Is the victim soiled by the criminal’s guilt? Is the pioneer, drawn from the morass, responsible for his temporary discoloration?”
He was silent for a moment, but in so far as it was visible, his expression was far from reassuring. Then he rang the bell, and Tact entered the room. She was the less attractive of the two twins.
“That’s the one,” he said. “I made them draw lots. But you can only marry her on one condition—that you sign an agreement to live north of the Thames and make a home for her four sisters.”