"So he really did get out at nights?" remarked my adversary. "You
certainly give your friend away. What's he doing now?"
I let my eyes follow Raffles round the room before replying. He
was waltzing with a master's wife - waltzing as he did everything
else. Other couples seemed to melt before them. And the woman on
his arm looked a radiant girl.
"I meant in town, or wherever he lives his mysterious life,"
explained Nasmyth, when I told him that he could see for himself.
But his clever tone did not trouble me; it was his epithet that
caused me to prick my ears. And I found some difficulty in
following Raffles right round the room.
"I thought everybody knew what he was doing; he's playing cricket
most of his time," was my measured reply; and if it bore an extra
touch of insolence, I can honestly ascribe that to my nerves.
"And is that all. he does for a living?" pursued my inquisitor keenly.
"You had better ask Raffles himself," said I to that. "It's a pity
you didn't ask him in public, at the meeting!"
But I was beginning to show temper in my embarrassment, and of course
that made Nasmyth the more imperturbable.
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