“You were in London on that date,” I asserted.
“No. I was in Alexandria. I sailed from there on the twenty-second.”
“Then, at the outset, you deny that you were in London on the date I have mentioned? Good! Well, I will go a step further in order to refresh your memory. On that July night you met your friend, Tattersett.”
“My dear fellow,” he cried, laughing outright, “I have no idea of what you’re driving at. Have you taken leave of your senses?”
“No,” I answered angrily, “I have not, fortunately for myself. Therefore it is useless to deny the truth.”
“I am not denying the truth,” he replied. “I am denying the extraordinary assertion you are making.”
“Because you fear to face the truth.”
“I fear nothing,” he responded defiantly. “What, in Heaven’s name, have I to fear?”
“The consequences of the cleverly-planned conspiracy against myself.”
He smiled superciliously, and answered, “I don’t understand you. What conspiracy?”