“I cannot tell you. But if you will sell—”
“Sell! sell! sell!” vociferated Braddock furiously.
“Don Pedro will give you a good price,” finished Random calmly.
“I haven't got the mummy,” said the Professor, sitting down and wiping his pink head, “and if I had, I certainly would not sell. However, I'll hear what this gentleman has to say when he arrives. Perhaps he can throw some light on the mystery of this crime.”
“I am perfectly certain that he cannot, sir. Don Pedro—as I said—was left behind in Genoa.”
“Humph!” said the Professor, unconvinced. “He could easily employ a third party.”
Random rose, looking and feeling annoyed.
“I assure you that Don Pedro is a gentleman and a man of honor. He would not stoop to—”
“There! there!” Braddock waved his hands. “Sit down: sit down.”
“You shouldn't say such things, Professor.”
“I say what I desire to say,” retorted the old gentleman tartly; “but we can dismiss the subject for the time being.”
“I am only too glad to do so,” said Random, who was ruffled out of his usual calm by the veiled accusation which Braddock had brought against his foreign friend, “and to get to a more agreeable subject, tell me how Miss Kendal is keeping.”
“She is ill, very ill,” said the Professor solemnly.