interest to a curious crowd. While I hesitated he went on:
"A nice sort you seem to be, all round. A pretty lot of lies you stuffed me with this morning—Adair and you together. On my honour! Making out that Eddie Lawrence had had his throat cut, and the Lord knows what! Setting me thinking that my sister'd cut it for him—my goodness! What is your little game? I wish she had!" He burst into boisterous laughter. "Bessie cut Eddie Lawrence's throat!—that would be an elegant joke! I only wish she'd done it! D'ye hear? I say I only wish she'd done it! You can put that into your pipe and smoke it."
He swaggered off up the street. I made no attempt to stop him—crediting him with the wild utterances of a drink-fuddled brain. I did wonder what errand had brought him to Philip Lawrence's; for that he had been going there when I interrupted him I felt sure. But that, in his present condition, I should get no information on that point, or any other, from him was evident.
I returned home. As soon as I entered the sitting-room, I became conscious that some one was in the bedroom beyond.
"If that is Hume again"
It would have gone hard with him, if it had been; but it was not. It was Inspector Symonds
