discover the truth—I wondered how you would feel about it, that was all.”
His anger died down. He stared once more straight ahead of him like a man trying to read the answer to a riddle that perplexes him, yet which exists only in his own brain.
“If I suspected—if I knew—I should do my duty, Clement. At least, I hope so.”
“The question is—which way would you consider your duty lay?”
He looked at me with inscrutable eyes.
“That question comes to every man some time in his life, I suppose, Clement. And every man has to decide in his own way.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t know. …”
I felt the best thing was to change the subject.
“That nephew of mine is enjoying this case thoroughly,” I said. “Spends his entire time looking for footprints and cigarette ash.”
Haydock smiled.
“What age is he?”
“Just sixteen. You don’t take tragedies seriously at that age. It’s all Sherlock Homes and Arsene Lupin to you.”
Haydock said thoughtfully:
“He’s a fine-looking boy. What are you going to do with him?”