"I am extremely obliged to you," he said. "I am sure I should
find it most interesting. Another time I should be very glad
indeed to look through those specifications, but just now I have
this affair of my own rather on my mind. About this Mr. Richard
Vanderpole, Mr. Coulson, then," he added. "Do I understand that
this young man came to you as a complete stranger?"

"Absolutely," Mr. Coulson answered. "I never saw him before in my
life. As decent a young chap as ever I met with, all the same,"
he went on, "and comes of a good American stock, too. They tell
me there's going to be an inquest and that I shall be summoned,
but I know nothing more than what I've told you. If I did, you'd
be welcome to it."

Mr. Jacks leaned back in his chair. Certainly the situation
increased in perplexity! The man by his side was talking now of
the adaptation of one of his patents to some existing machinery,
and Jacks watched him covertly. He considered himself, to some
extent, a physiognomist. He told himself it was not possible that
this man was playing a part. Mr. James B. Coulson sat there, the
absolute incarnation of the genial man of affairs, interested in
his business, interested in the great subject of dollar-getting,
content with himself and his position,--a person apparently of
little imagination, for the shock of this matter concerning which
they had been talking had already passed away. He was doing his
best to explain with a pencil on the back of an illustrated paper
some new system of wool-bleaching.

"Mr. Coulson," the Inspector said suddenly, "do you know a young
lady named Miss Penelope Morse?"