"We all do."
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"Oh!" He looked at Antony with interest. "D'you know where you are in this case?"
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"I know where I'm going to be."
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"Where's that?"
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"Put through it by Inspector Birch," said Antony with a smile.
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The inspector laughed genially.
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"Well, I'll spare you as much as I can. Come along."
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They went into the library. The inspector seated himself at a writing-table, and Cayley sat in a chair by the side of it. Antony made himself comfortable in an armchair and prepared to be interested.
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"We'll start with the dead man," said the Inspector. "Robert Ablett, didn't you say?" He took out his notebook.
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"Yes. Brother of Mark Ablett, who lives here."
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"Ah!" He began to sharpen a pencil. "Staying in the house?"
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Antony listened attentively while Cayley explained all that he knew about Robert. This was news to him. "I see. Sent out of the country in disgrace. What had he done?"
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"I hardly know. I was only about twelve at the time. The sort of age when you're told not to ask questions."
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"Inconvenient questions?"
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"So you don't really know whether he had been merely wild or-or wicked?"
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"No. Old Mr. Ablett was a clergyman," added Cayley. "Perhaps what might seem wicked to a clergyman might seem only wild to a man of the world."
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"I daresay, Mr. Cayley," smiled the Inspector. "Anyhow, it was more convenient to have him in Australia?"
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"Mark Ablett never talked about him?"
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"Hardly ever. He was very much ashamed of him, and-well, very glad he was in Australia."
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"Did he write Mark sometimes?"
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"Occasionally. Perhaps three or four times in the last five years."
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"Asking for money?"
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