nearly a minute he answered absolutely nothing, and then he said very slowly and deliberately:
"I think it would be better, Mr. Cromarty, if you gave me a brief, explicit statement of how you got into this mess."
"Dash it, you know too well—" began Cromarty.
"It would make you realise your own position more clearly," interrupted the lawyer. "You want me to assist you, I take it?"
"Rather—if you will!"
"Well then, please do as I ask you. You had better start at the beginning of your relations with Sir Reginald."
Malcolm Cromarty's face expressed surprise, but the lawyer's was distinctly less severe, and he began readily enough:
"Well, of course, as you know, my cousin Charles Cromarty died about 18 months ago and I became the heir to the baronetcy—" he broke off and asked, "Do you mean you want we to go over all that?"
Simon nodded, and he went on:
"Sir Reginald was devilish good at first—in his own patronising way, let me stay at Keldale as often and as long as I liked, made me an allowance and so on; but there was always this fuss about my taking up something a little more conventional than literature. Ha, ha!" The young man laughed in a superior way and then looked apprehensively at the other. "But I suppose you agree with Sir Reginald?"