"My dear young lady," he said, "there is, this time, a mystery to be
explained. And--allow me to hand you into this room--there is a young
gentleman in here who will explain it, all of it, a thousand times better
than we old fogies possibly could!"
He closed the door on her, and turned to Mr. Pawle.
"I'll trouble you for a pinch of that old snuff of yours, Pawle!" he
said. "Um--dear me! What extraordinary moments we do pass through!
Viner, my dear fellow, you're a book-collector, I know. To--er--pass the
time, show me some of your treasures."
Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, went by, while Viner showed
some of his most treasured possessions in the way of print and binding to
the two old lawyers. They were both past masters in the art of
make-believe, and they contrived to show great interest in what was
exhibited to them, but Viner knew very well that when Mr. Pawle was
expatiating on the merits of an Elzevir or Mr. Carless on the beauties of
a Grolier, they were really wondering what the two young people in the
next room, so strangely thrown together, were saying to each other.
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