“Man, sir.” “Man, sir.” “All right,” growled Sherlaw. “I’ll come, confound him.” “All right,” “I’ll come, confound him.” [pg 16] “Bad luck, old man,” laughed Escott. “I’ll wait here in case by any chance you want me.” “Bad luck, old man,” “I’ll wait here in case by any chance you want me.” He fell into his chair again, lit a cigarette, and sleepily turned over the pages of a book. Dr Sherlaw was away for a little time, and when he returned his cheerful face wore a somewhat mystified expression. “Well?” asked Escott. “Well?” “Rather a rum case,” said his colleague, thoughtfully. “Rather a rum case,” “What’s the matter?” “What’s the matter?” “Don’t know.” “Don’t know.” “Who was it?” “Who was it?”
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