“Now,” he said at last, “if you really wish me to take you round I’ll do so, but the whole thing seems so droll and absurd that I hope, sir, you’ll excuse my doubts as to your sanity.”
“Well, why do you think I’m insane?” I asked, looking straight at him. “Do I look like a madman?”
“Not at all. With your head swathed in those bandages, you look like a man who’s received a serious injury.”
“Of course, that confounded old charlatan Britten put forward the suggestion that I’m not in my right mind!” I said. “But I tell you quite calmly, and without fear of contradiction—indeed, I could swear upon oath—that never in my life have I entered this place or set eyes upon you or upon that painted old girl before to-day. Now, if you were in my place, surely you would resent, being called husband by a woman whom you don’t know from Adam; you wouldn’t relish being condemned as a lunatic by an idiotic old country quack, and being imposed upon all round by persons in whom you have not the slightest interest.”
His face relaxed into a smile.
“If I may be permitted to advise,” he said, “I think it best not to discuss the matter further at present. A solution must present itself before long. Meanwhile your intellect will be rendered the clearer by repose.”
“I’ve already told you that I don’t intend to rest until I’ve extricated myself from this absurdly false position,” I said determinedly. “I feel absolutely certain that I’ve been mistaken for some one of the same name.”
He shrugged his shoulders. He was evidently a shrewd fellow, this man who said he was my secretary, and was apparently a very confidential servant.
“I’d like to know what to reply to Mawson’s cable,” he said. “You really ought to take some notice of such a marvellous stroke of good fortune. His discovery means fabulous wealth for you as holder of the concession.”
“My dear sir,” I said, “for mercy’s sake don’t bother me about this fellow and his confounded pans. Reply just as you like. You seem to know all about it. I don’t—nor do I want to know.”