Max, and stared out of the window into Harley Street.
M. Max, a man of refined susceptibilities, came to his aid,
diplomatically.
"It is perhaps overmuch to ask you," he said. "I can settle the
problem in a more simple manner. Inspector Dunbar will ask you for this
gentleman's name, and you, as witness in the case, cannot refuse to give
it."
"I can refuse until I stand in the witness-box!" replied Cumberly,
turning, a wry smile upon his face.
"With the result," interposed Max, "that the ends of justice might be
defeated, and the wrong man hanged!"
"True," said Cumberly; "I am splitting hairs. It is distinctly a breach
of professional etiquette, nevertheless, and I cannot disguise the fact
from myself. However, since the knowledge will never go any further,
and since tremendous issues are at stake, I will give you the name of my
opium patient. It is Sir Brian Malpas!"
"I am much indebted to you, Dr. Cumberly," said Max; "a thousand
thanks;" but in his eyes there was a far-away look. "Malpas--Malpas!
Where in this case have I met with the name of Malpas?"
"Inspector Dunbar may possibly have mentioned it to you in reference to
the evidence of Mr. John Exel, M. P. Mr. Exel, you may remember"...
"I have it!" cried Max; "Nom d'un nom! I have it! It was from Sir Brian
Malpas that he had parted at the corner of Victoria Street on the night
of the murder, is it not so?"
"Your memory is very good, M.
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