I am quite sure there is a factory there.
I wish Mallow would come and tell me if he has learned
anything."
Again there was a ring at the door, and this time Jennings,
expecting no one else, certainly hoped to see Cuthbert. But,
to his surprise, the servant showed in Lord Caranby. The old
gentleman was calm and composed as usual, but Jennings thought
he looked ill and frail. The dark circles round his eyes were
more pronounced than ever, and he leaned heavily on his cane.
He was perfectly dressed as usual, and seemed disposed to be
friendly.
"I am glad to see you, Lord Caranby," said the detective, when
the old gentleman was accommodated with the chair, "have you
had breakfast?"
"Thank you, yes. But I could not eat any," said Caranby,
breathing heavily. "Those stairs of, yours are trying, Mr.
Jennings. I am not so young or so strong as I was."
"You don't look the picture of health, my lord."
"Can you expect a dying man to?"
"Dying--oh, no, you--"
"Dying," insisted Caranby, rapping his stick on the ground.
"I know that I have not many months to live, and I sha'n't be
sorry when the end comes. I have had a hard time. Cuthbert
will soon be standing in my shoes. I suffer from an incurable
complaint, Mr. Jennings, and my doctor tells me I shall die
soon."
"I am sure Mallow will be sorry," said Jennings, wondering why
Caranby, ordinarily the most reticent of men, should tell him
all this.
"Yes--yes, Cuthbert is a good fellow.
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