Lyell smiled and half turned in the box.
"Why, of course!" he answered. "There is Mr. Aylmore."
"There is Mr. Aylmore. Very good. Now we go on. You met Mr. Aylmore close to Waterloo Bridge? How close?"
"Well, sir, to be exact, Mr. Aylmore came down the steps from the bridge on to the Embankment."
"Alone?"
"No."
"Who was with him?"
"A man, sir."
"Did you know the man?"
"No. But seeing who he was with, I took a good look at him. I haven't forgotten his face."
"You haven't forgotten his face. Mr. Lyell—has anything recalled that face to you within this last day or two?"
"Yes, sir, indeed!"
"What?"
"The picture of the man they say was murdered—John Marbury."
"You're sure of that?"
"I'm as certain, sir, as that my name's what it is."
"It is your belief that Mr. Aylmore, when you met him, was accompanied by the man who, according to the photographs, was John Marbury?"
"It is, sir!"
"Very well. Now, having seen Mr. Aylmore and his companion, what did you do?"
"Oh, I just turned and walked after them."
