“Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants they could not discover a single trace. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. I wanted something alive. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. Good night.
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