Carless--Mr. Driver--and--yes, to be sure,
Mr. Portlethwaite! I have a good memory for faces." He bowed to each man
as he named him, and smiled again. "Whether these gentlemen remember me
as well as I remember them," he remarked, "is another question!"
"May I offer you a chair?" said Mr. Carless.
The visitor bowed, sat down, and took off his gloves. And in the silence
which followed, Viner saw that the eyes of Driver, Carless, Pawle and
Portlethwaite were all steadily directed on the claimant's right
hand--he himself turned to it, too, with no small interest. The next
instant he was conscious that an atmosphere of astonishment and surprise
had been set up in that room. For the middle finger of the man's right
hand was missing!
Viner felt, rather than saw, that the three solicitors and the elderly
clerk were exchanging glances of amazement. And he fancied that Mr.
Carless' voice, which had sounded cold and noncommittal as he offered the
visitor a seat, was somewhat uncertain when he turned to address him.
"You claim, sir, to be the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared so many years
ago?" he asked, eyeing the claimant over.
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