“And then you went abroad, I think you said?”
“Yes; to India.”
“Just so; that’s where you died, is it not? You stayed in London long enough to go to the dogs, I understood you to say?”
“That didn’t take long. I spent all my money in six months, and then enlisted,” said Ratman, feeling fairly launched by this time.
“Quite so. And you died, I believe, in India?”
“I was supposed to have died in a skirmish; and they sent news home that I had. I never corrected it.”
“Whereabouts was the skirmish, if it’s a fair question?”
“On the frontier. I forget the name.”
“That’s unfortunate. By the way, to go back to London, do you recollect where Mr Fastnet lived? I should like to call on him.”
“You won’t find him; he died before I went abroad—drank himself to death.”