CHAPTER VII
THE SUSPICIONS OF MR. MORLEY
The newcomer was a man apparently about sixty years of age, short, and grey-haired, with old-fashioned, neatly-trimmed side whiskers. He was dressed entirely in black, even to black kid gloves; his hat he carried in his hand. He seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation, and stood looking from one to the other of us as if he was endeavouring to make up his mind as to who or what we were. Hume recognized him at once. He went striding towards him from across the room.
"Morley, you had better come with me. It is to me you wish to speak, not to this gentleman."
I interposed.
"He asked for Mr. Ferguson. I am Mr. Ferguson. It therefore seems that it is to me that he wishes to speak."
"Don't talk nonsense! You're a stranger to him; I tell you it's a mistake. You know me, Morley, don't you?"
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