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Theshadowy,darkhead,likemine,seemedtonodimperceptiblyabovetheghostlygrayofmysleepingsuit.Itwas,inthenight,asthoughIhadbeenfacedbymyownreflectioninthedepthsofasomberandimmensemirror.
“AprettythingtohavetoownuptoforaConwayboy,”murmuredmydouble,distinctly.
“You’reaConwayboy?”
“Iam,”hesaid,asifstartled.Then,slowly...“Perhapsyoutoo—”
Itwasso;butbeingacoupleofyearsolderIhadleftbeforehejoined.Afteraquickinterchangeofdatesasilencefell;andIthoughtsuddenlyofmyabsurdmatewithhisterrificwhiskersandthe“Blessmysoul—youdon’tsayso”typeofintellect.Mydoublegavemeaninklingofhisthoughtsbysaying:“Myfather’saparsoninNorfolk.Doyouseemebeforeajudgeandjuryonthatcharge?FormyselfIcan’tseethenecessity.Therearefellowsthatanangelfromheaven—AndIamnotthat.Hewasoneofthosecreaturesthatarejustsimmeringallthetimewithasillysortofwickedness.Miserabledevilsthathavenobusinesstoliveatall.Hewouldn’tdohisdutyandwouldn’tletanybodyelsedotheirs.Butwhat’sthegoodoftalking!Youknowwellenoughthesortofill-conditionedsnarlingcur—”
Heappealedtomeasifourexperienceshadbeenasidenticalasourclothes.AndIknewwellenoughthepestiferousdangerofsuchacharacterwheretherearenomeansoflegalrepression.AndIknewwellenoughalsothatmydoubletherewasnohomicidalruffian.Ididnotthinkofaskinghimfordetails,andhetoldmethestoryroughlyinbrusque,disconnectedsentences.
