Shrig busied with his little book and a stumpy pencil,
much as if he had been composing a sermon or address, while Anthony,
lounging upon the settee, watched him with lazy interest.
"A on-commonly taking cove, sir, that young man o' yourn!" said Mr.
Shrig, pocketing book and pencil.
"Not more so than other servants, I believe," I answered.
"And all valets," murmured Anthony, "all valets are predatory by
nature, of course--"
"I mean as he's a likely cove. Now, talkin' o' corpses--" began Mr.
Shrig.
"But we are not!" said I.
"Axing your parding, sir, but I am and, perfessionally speakin', never
'ave I seen a prettier corp', than this 'ere young fe-male in
question--"
"And your experience in such is vast, I take it?" murmured Anthony.
"None waster, sir! Wast is the werry vord for it."
"Do you think this is a case of suicide or murder?" enquired Anthony.
"Can't say, sir. But somevun's allvays bein' murdered, murderin' or
goin' for to murder somevun, somevere or t'other."
"Sounds cheery!" murmured Anthony. "Do you catch many murderers?"
"Pretty fair, sir, pretty fair. I got a special aptitood for it; I can
smell murder in the werry air, feel it, taste it--"
"Must be devilish unpleasant!" said Anthony.
"'Tis a nat'ral gift wi' me, sir. Lord love ye, gen'elmen, I can p'int
you out a murderer afore the fact's committed--I've got the names o'
four on 'em--no, five--wrote down in my little reader, five werry
promisin' coves as is doo for the deed at any moment; I'm a vaitin'
for 'em to bring it off, sirs.
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