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Chapter 4
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Icanseeyetthatbrightroomwiththedeers’headsandtheoldprintsonthewalls,SirHarrystandingrestlesslyonthestonecurbofthehearth,andmyselflyingbackinanarmchair,speaking.Iseemedtobeanotherperson,standingasideandlisteningtomyownvoice,andjudgingcarefullythereliabilityofmytale.ItwasthefirsttimeIhadevertoldanyonetheexacttruth,sofarasIunderstoodit,anditdidmenoendofgood,foritstraightenedoutthethinginmyownmind.Iblinkednodetail.HeheardallaboutScudder,andthemilkman,andthenote-book,andmydoingsinGalloway.Presentlyhegotveryexcitedandwalkedupanddownthehearthrug.
“Soyousee,”Iconcluded,“youhavegothereinyourhousethemanthatiswantedforthePortlandPlacemurder.Yourdutyistosendyourcarforthepoliceandgivemeup.Idon’tthinkI’llgetveryfar.There’llbeanaccident,andI’llhaveaknifeinmyribsanhourorsoafterarrest.Nevertheless,it’syourduty,asalaw-abidingcitizen.Perhapsinamonth’stimeyou’llbesorry,butyouhavenocausetothinkofthat.”
Hewaslookingatmewithbrightsteadyeyes.“WhatwasyourjobinRhodesia,MrHannay?”heasked.
“Miningengineer,”Isaid.“I’vemademypilecleanlyandI’vehadagoodtimeinthemakingofit.”
“Notaprofessionthatweakensthenerves,isit?”
Ilaughed.“Oh,astothat,mynervesaregoodenough.”Itookdownahunting-knifefromastandonthewall,anddidtheoldMashonatrickoftossingitandcatchingitinmylips.
