"But I don't. Nor do you. Since when have you
become so cautious?"
Gifford forced a laugh. "It is coming on with age."
Kelson clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't encourage it, my dear Hugh. It
will spoil all the enjoyment in your life, and in other people's too, if
you force the note. I promise you I won't hurry on the wedding more than
is absolutely necessary."
"Very well," Gifford responded, and the subject dropped.
They had finished dinner, at which the absorbing subject of the tragedy
at Wynford Place was the main topic of their conversation, when the
landlord came in to say that Mr. Gervase Henshaw, who was staying at the
hotel, would like to see them if they were disengaged.
Kelson looked across at his friend. "Shall we see him?"
Gifford nodded. "We had better hear what he has to say. We don't want him
worrying Morriston."
"Ask Mr. Henshaw up," Kelson said to the landlord, and in a minute he was
ushered in.
With a quick, decisive movement Henshaw took the seat to which Kelson
invited him.
"I trust you won't think me intrusive, gentlemen," he began in his sharp
mode of speaking, "but you will understand I am very much upset and
horribly perplexed by the terrible fate which has overtaken my poor
brother.
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