Hugh Ritson's infirm foot trailed heavily on the stones. His lips quivered. For a moment he seemed to be rapt. Then he swung about and muttered:
"Tut! it isn't within belief. Thrusted home, it might betray a man, Heaven only knows how deeply."
Mr. Bonnithorne looked up inquiringly.
"Pardon me; I fail, as you say, to catch the relevance."
"Mr. Bonnithorne," said Hugh Ritson, holding out his hand, "you and I have been good friends, have we not?"
"Oh, the best of friends."
"At your leisure, when I have had time to think of this, let us discuss it further."
Mr. Bonnithorne smiled assent.
"And meantime," he said, softly, "let the unhappy little being we spoke of be sent away."
Hugh Ritson's eyes fell, and his voice deepened.