He's as near as possible through the wood. Coming up in the
train, he suggested a little conversation to-night and afterwards
the normal life. He means it, too. There's nothing neurotic
about Ledsam."
The magistrate nodded.
"Run along, then, my merry Andrew," he said, "but see that Ledsam
keeps his word about to-morrow."
Andrew Wilmore plunged boldly into the forbidden subject later on
that evening, as the two men sat side by side at one of the wall
tables in Soto's famous club restaurant. They had consumed an
excellent dinner. An empty champagne bottle had just been
removed, double liqueur brandies had taken its place. Francis,
with an air of complete and even exuberant humanity, had lit a
huge cigar. The moment seemed propitious.
"Francis," his friend began, "they say at the club that you
refused to be briefed in the Chippenham affair."
"Quite true," was the calm reply. "I told Griggs that I wouldn't
have anything to do with it."
Wilmore knew then that all was well. Francis' old air of
strength and decision had returned. His voice was firm, his eyes
were clear and bright. His manner seemed even to invite
questioning.
"I think I know why," Wilmore said, "but I should like you to
tell me in your own words."
Francis glanced around as though to be sure that they were not
overheard.
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