"You quite mistake me, Harry," Gifford replied warmly. "It is only in your own interest that I counsel you not to be in a hurry."
"But why? What, in heaven's name, do you mean?" Kelson demanded, vaguely apprehensive.
"It is a mistake to rush things, that is all," was the unsatisfactory answer.
"If I saw the slightest chance of danger I would not hesitate to take your advice," Kelson said. "But I don't. Nor do you. Since when have you become so cautious?"
Gifford forced a laugh. "It is coming on with age."
Kelson clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't encourage it, my dear Hugh. It will spoil all the enjoyment in your life, and in other people's too, if you force the note. I promise you I won't hurry on the wedding more than is absolutely necessary."
"Very well," Gifford responded, and the subject dropped.
They had finished dinner, at which the absorbing subject of the tragedy at Wynford Place was the main topic of their conversation, when the landlord came in to say that Mr. Gervase Henshaw, who was staying at the hotel, would like to see them if they were disengaged.
Kelson looked across at his friend. "Shall we see him?"
Gifford nodded. "We had better hear what he has to say. We don't want him worrying Morriston."