What could occur in Wellingsford without it being known at once to vanmen and postmen and barbers and servants and masters and mistresses?
How could a man hope to conceal his goings and comings and secret actions?
He might just as well expect to take a secluded noontide bath in the fountain in Piccadilly Circus.
"Perhaps that's why the matter of those repairs was so pressing, sir," said Marigold.
"No doubt of it," said I.
Marigold hung about, his finger-tips pushing towards me mustard and apples and tulips and everything that one does not eat with egg.

But it was no use.

I had no desire to pursue the conversation.

I continued my breakfast stolidly and read the newspaper propped up against the coffee-pot.

So many circumstances connected with Boyce's visit were of a nature that precluded confidential discussion with Marigold,--that precluded, indeed, confidential discussion with anyone else.