“I asked you for information, Eugene,” said Mortimer reproachfully.

“Dear boy, I know it, but I can’t give it. I thirst for information. What do I mean? If my taking so much trouble to recover her does not mean that I care for her, what does it mean? ‘If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, where’s the peck, etc. ?’ ”

Though he said this gaily, he said it with a perplexed and inquisitive face, as if he actually did not know what to make of himself. “Look on to the end⁠—” Lightwood was beginning to remonstrate, when he caught at the words: