"You forget, Sir Anthony, I'm not a criminal and you're not a policeman."
"I'm the Mayor to this town, sir," cried Sir Anthony. "I'm also a Justice of the Peace."
"And I'm a law-abiding citizen," retorted Gedge.
"You're an infernal socialistic pro-German," exclaimed Sir Anthony.
"Prove it. I only ask you to prove it. No matter what my private opinions may be, you just try to bring me up under the Defence of the Realm Act, and you'll find you can't touch me."
I held out a hand. "Forgive me for interrupting," said I, "but what is all this discussion about?"
Gedge crossed one leg over the other and drew his beard through his fingers. Sir Anthony was about to burst into speech, but I checked him with a gesture and turned to Gedge.
"It has nothing to do with political opinions," said he. "It has to do with the death, nearly two years ago, of Miss Althea Fenimore, Sir Anthony's only daughter."
Sir Anthony, his face congested, glared at him malevolently. I started, with a gasp of surprise, and stared at the man who, caressing his beard, looked from one to the other of us with an air of satisfaction.
"Get on," said Sir Anthony.