“Got frightened, I suppose,” he said. “Of course, I know well enough that it’s rather startling—”
“My dear man, he was in the thick of it for ten years. I’ll acknowledge his stories are hair-raising, if one believed them; but then, you see—”
“What’s his address?”
Morton jerked his head towards the directories in the bookshelf.
“Find him there,” he said. “I’ll give you an introduction if you want it. Though, mind you, I think he talks as much rot as anyone—”
“What does he say?”
“Lord!—I don’t know. Some theory or other. But, at any rate, he’s given it up.”
Laurie pursed his lips.
“I daresay I’ll ask you some time,” he said. “Meanwhile—”
“Meanwhile, for the Lord’s sake, get on with that business you’ve got there.”
Mr. Morton was indeed, as Laurie had reflected, extraordinarily uninterested in things outside his beat; and his beat was not a very extended one. He was a quite admirable barrister, competent, alert, merciless and kindly at the