"And it is my duty to warn Mr. Scott Eccles that it may be used against him."
"Mr. Eccles was going to tell us about it when you entered the room.
I think, Watson, a brandy and soda would do him no harm.
Now, sir, I suggest that you take no notice of this addition to your audience, and that you proceed with your narrative exactly as you would have done had you never been interrupted."
Our visitor had gulped off the brandy and the colour had returned to his face. With a dubious glance at the inspector's notebook, he plunged at once into his extraordinary statement.
"I am a bachelor," said he, "and being of a sociable turn I cultivate a large number of friends.
Among these are the family of a retired brewer called Melville, living at Abermarle Mansion, Kensington.
It was at his table that I met some weeks ago a young fellow named Garcia.
He was, I understood, of Spanish descent and connected in some way with the embassy.
He spoke perfect English, was pleasing in his manners, and as good-looking a man as ever I saw in my life.