“Parson Lolly dead! That was fudge.”
“On the contrary, he assured us with perfect gravity that the Parson died last night.”
“He was pulling your leg.”
“Not a bit of it. I know Maryvale that well, anyhow.”
“Give it your own name, then; I’d call it empty talk.”
Aire twitched around at me in a surprised way. “Never,” he declared. “Sure, Bannerlee, you must realize by this time that there’s always something behind what Maryvale says. He doesn’t merely vaporize.”
We were approaching the temporary bridge. “I wish you’d tell me exactly what you think of Maryvale, Doctor. I confess that to me there’s something uncanny about the man. If he’s mad, he ought not to be loose among us, and if not—”
“If not?” Aire cocked his head to hear.
“—if not, he’s up to some subtle game.”
“Oho, you think so?”