But Sam Copperdock merely snorted impatiently. “Newspaper!” he exclaimed, “why, the newspapers don’t know nothing about it! I tell you I’ve been up three parts of the night over this affair.”

“Indeed? Then you probably know all the details,” replied the herbalist. “If you can spare the time, I should be very interested if you would sit down and tell me all about it.”

This was exactly what Mr. Copperdock had meant to do. He sank heavily into the chair with a portentous sigh. “Terrible thing, terrible,” he began, shaking his head. “I’ve known Jim Tovey ever since he first took that shop in Lisson Grove, and to think that a thing like this should happen to him! And his poor daughter Ivy spent the best part of the evening at my place, too.”

Mr. Ludgrove, who knew his friend’s methods of expression, was careful not to interrupt, and after a short pause the tobacconist resumed his relation.