“Have you heard anything of him since?”
“Yes. He got into some political scrape, and took refuge, like the rest of them, in England; and got his living, like the rest of them, by teaching languages. He sent me his prospectus—that’s how I came to know about it.”
“Have you got the prospectus?”
“Torn up, long ago.”
Mr. Mool wrote down the name in his pocket-book. “There is nothing more you can tell me?” he said.
“Nothing.”
“Accept my best thanks, doctor. Good-day!”
“If you find Baccani let me know. Another drop of ale? Are you likely to see Mrs. Gallilee soon?”
“Yes—if I find Baccani.”
“Do you ever play with children?”