"And of all. the
criminals one might be called upon to defend, give me the enterprising
burglar."
"It must be the breeziest branch of the business," remarked Raffles,
while I held my breath.
But his touch was as light as gossamer, and his artless manner a
triumph of even his incomparable art. Raffles was alive to the
danger at last. I saw him refuse more champagne, even as I drained
my glass again. But it was not the same danger to us both. Raffles
had no reason to feel surprise or alarm at such a turn in a
conversation frankly devoted to criminology; it must have been as
inevitable to him as it was sinister to me, with my fortuitous
knowledge of the suspicions that were entertained. And there was
little to put him on his guard in the touch of his adversaries,
which was only less light than his own.
"I am not very fond of Mr. Sikes," announced the barrister, like a
man who had got his cue.
"But he was prehistoric," rejoined my lord. "A lot of blood has
flowed under the razor since the days of Sweet William."
"True; we have had Peace," said Parrington, and launched out into
such glowing details of that criminal's last moments that I began
to hope the diversion might prove permanent.
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