shall ask you a leading question. What is your real name, Mr. Stranleigh?"
"You have just mentioned it."
Where have I seen your name before, and quite recently?"
"How can you expect me to answer that, Mr. Brassard? Probably in the police reports of the newspapers. You mentioned blackmail a little time ago, and if that is my profession it is in the criminal lists that you would be most likely to come across the name of Stranleigh."
"You are not telling me the truth, Mr. Stranleigh."
"Ah, that is the kind of remark one man should not make to another. Everything I have told you is true."
"Then you have not spoken the whole truth."
"That is better and perfectly correct."
"Why don't you tell me the whole truth?"
"Because, as you very tersely put it, it is none of your d—d business. You see from that statement how evil communications corrupt good manners."
"You are getting angry, Mr. Stranleigh."
"Yes."
"And you won't inform me who you are."
"I have already done so."
Brassard wrinkled his brow and gazed for a few moments towards the ceiling.
"Stranleigh—Stranleigh," he murmured to himself. "Where the deuce have I seen that name?"
