Cuthbertson--if such a person
existed--could be brought on to the scene the better for every one
concerned. He asked himself whether he ought to summon Mrs. Clover.
His glance towards the door must have betrayed his thought, for the
sick man spoke as though in reply to it.
"We will say nothing to her yet, if you please. I--I begin to feel a
little better. Our long confidential talk has done me good. By the
by, Greenacre--I beg your pardon, Gammon--you quite understand that
it is all in the strictest confidence. I trust you implicitly as my
dear wife's friend; it is all in her interests, as you see. I think
now, if you would kindly get a cab--yes, I feel quite equal to it
now--we will go to Lowndes Mansions."
The voice was thin, husky, senile; but his tone had more of
rationality, and he appeared to have made up his mind to a course of
action. Gammon presently went downstairs and told Mrs. Clover that
her husband wished to go into town on business. She made no
objection, but asked whether Gammon would take the responsibility of
looking after him.
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