’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. Almost at the same moment the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. “I say!” he said, without any movement. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. ‘I’ve had enough of this. This way, Sir Rowland. His father and mother were a lawyer and a doctor, respectively. Later on—well then the time may come. But understand me thoroughly: I am offering you this job because my friend wants to help you.
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