"Thanks; feel remarkably well. A touch of liver now and then, but
nothing serious. By the by, anything I can do for you? Any
genealogy?"
Gammon had drained his tumbler of hot whisky, and felt better for
it. With the second he became more communicative. He asked himself
why, after all, he should not hang on to the clue he had obtained
from Polly, and why Greenacre should not be made use of.
"Know anything about a Gildersleeve?" he asked with a laugh.
His companion smiled cheerfully, looking at once more interested.
"Gildersleeve! Why, yes, there was a boy of that name--no, no; it
was Gildersleeves, I remember. Any connexion with Quodling?"
"Can't say. The people I mean live in Stanhope Gardens. I don't know
anything about them."
"Like to?"
Gammon admitted that the name had a significance for him. A matter
of curiosity.
"No harm in a bit of genealogy," said Greenacre. "Always
interesting. Stanhope Gardens? What number?"
He urged no further question and gave no promise, but Gammon felt
sure this time that information would speedily be forthcoming.
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