"You know old Swigger Morrison?" I added in final explanation. "I
had been dining with him at his club!"
Raffles shook his long old head. And the kindly light in his eyes
was still my infinite reward.
"I don't care," said he, "how deeply you had been dining: in vino
veritas, Bunny, and your pluck would always out! I have never
doubted it, and I never shall. In fact, I rely on nothing else to
get us out of this mess."
My face must have fallen, as my heart sank at these words. I had
said to myself that we were out of the mess already - that we had
merely to make a clean escape from the house - now the easiest thing
in the world. But as I looked at Raffles, and as Raffles looked
at me, on the threshold of the room where the three sleepers slept
on without sound or movement, I grasped the real problem that lay
before us. It was twofold; and the funny thing was that I had seen
both horns of the dilemma for myself, before Raffles came to his
senses. But with Raffles in his right mind, I had ceased to apply
my own, or to carry my share of our common burden another inch.
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