With his disarming simplicity he made me observe, as if it were a matter
of some consequence, how strange it was that he should have spent the
morning indoors at all. He generally was out before tiffin, visiting
various offices, seeing his friends in the harbour, and so on. He had
felt out of sorts somewhat on rising. Nothing much. Just enough to make
him feel lazy.

All this with a sustained, holding stare which, in conjunction with
the general inanity of the discourse, conveyed the impression of mild,
dreary lunacy. And when he hitched his chair a little and dropped
his voice to the low note of mystery, it flashed upon me that high
professional reputation was not necessarily a guarantee of sound mind.

It never occurred to me then that I didn't know in what soundness
of mind exactly consisted and what a delicate and, upon the whole,
unimportant matter it was. With some idea of not hurting his feelings I
blinked at him in an interested manner. But when he proceeded to ask me
mysteriously whether I remembered what had passed just now between that
Steward of ours and "that man Hamilton," I only grunted sourly assent
and turned away my head.

"Aye. But do you remember every word?" he insisted tactfully.

"I don't know. It's none of my business," I snapped out, consigning,
moreover, the Steward and Hamilton aloud to eternal perdition.

I meant to be very energetic and final, but Captain Giles continued to
gaze at me thoughtfully. Nothing could stop him. He went on to point out
that my personality was involved in that conversation. When I tried to