“Well, there is just one point.”
“What is it?”
“What were the exact relations between you and Miss Dunbar?”
The Gold King gave a violent start, and half rose from his chair. Then his massive calm came back to him.
“I suppose you are within your rights—and maybe doing your duty—in asking such a question, Mr. Holmes.”
“We will agree to suppose so,” said Holmes.
“Then I can assure you that our relations were entirely and always those of an employer towards a young lady whom he never conversed with, or ever saw, save when she was in the company of his children.”
Holmes rose from his chair.
“I am a rather busy man, Mr. Gibson,” said he, “and I have no time or taste for aimless conversations. I wish you good morning.”
Our visitor had risen also and his great loose figure towered above Holmes. There was an angry gleam from under those bristling brows and a tinge of colour in the sallow cheeks.
‘What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my case?”
“Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you. I should have thought my words were plain.”
“Plain enough, but what’s at the back of it? Raising the price on me, or afraid to tackle it, or what? I’ve a right to a plain answer.”
“Well, perhaps you have,” said Holmes. “I’ll
