These two men had worked together
for many months, and men who have a daily task in common usually
learn to perform it without much interchange of observation. When
one man gets to know the mind of another, conversation assumes a
place of secondary importance. These two had been through more
incidents together than usually fall to the lot of man--each knew
how the other would act and think under given circumstances; each
knew what the other was thinking now.
The house in Russell Square, the quiet house in the corner where the
cabs do not pass, was lighted up and astir when they reached it.
The old butler held open the door with a smile of welcome and a
faint aroma of whisky. The luggage had been discreetly removed.
Joseph had gone to Mr. Meredith's chambers. Guy Oscard led the way
to the smoking-room at the back of the house--the room wherein the
eccentric Oscard had written his great history--the room in which
Victor Durnovo had first suggested the Simiacine scheme to the
historian's son.
The two survivors of the originating trio passed into this room
together, and closed the door behind them.
"The worst of one's own private tragedies is that they are usually
only comedies in disguise," said Jack Meredith oracularly.
Guy Oscard grunted. He was looking for his pipe.
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