It was all too plain and outspoken.
''Tis possible this may be true--_thus_ much.

_A_ Charles Archer is dead, and yet another Charles Archer, the object of my search, still living,' said Mervyn.
'Hey! that didn't strike me,' said Dangerfield, as much amused as was consistent with moderately good breeding.

'But I can quite account, Mr.
Mervyn,' he continued, with a sudden change of tone and manner, to something almost of kindness, 'for your readiness to entertain any theory not quite destructive of hopes, which, notwithstanding, I fear, rest simply on the visions of that poor hypochondriac, Irons.

But, for all that, 'tis just possible that something may strike either you or me in the matter not quite so romantic--hey?
But still something .-- You've not told me how the plague Charles Archer could possibly have served you.

But on that point, perhaps, we can talk another time.