"I never jest on matters connected with my profession, Mallow.
It is too serious a one."
"Naturally. It so often involves the issues of life and
death."
"In this case I hope it does not," said Jennings,
significantly.
Cuthbert, who was recovering his composure, sat down with a
shrug. "I assure you, you have found a mare's nest this time.
Whatever my follies may have been, I am not a criminal."
"I never thought you were," rejoined the other, also taking a
seat, "but you may have become involved with people who are
criminals."
"I dare say half of those one meets in society are worthy of
jail, did one know what is done under the rose," returned
Cuthbert; "by the way, how did you come so opportunely?"
"I knew you had gone out of town, as I came a few days ago to
see you about this matter, and inquired. Your servant said
you were in Devonshire--"
"I went to see my mother who was ill," said Mallow quickly.
"I guessed as much. You said something about your mother
living in Exeter when we met last. Well, I had Paddington
watch for your return, and my messenger--"
"Your spy, you mean," said Mallow angrily.
"Certainly, if you prefer the term. Well, your spy--I mean
my spy, reported that you were back, so I came on here. Are
you going out?"
"I was, but if you wish to arrest me--"
"Nonsense, man. I have only come to have a quiet chat with
you. Believe me, I wish you well. I have not forgotten the
old Eton days.
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