Chairman, sir.
But I was standing by the main door when it happened, and had him in
full view, and--Well!" he wound up.
"Well?" said I.
He dropped his voice to a whisper almost. "It frightened me,
sir. . . . I think it must have frightened a good few of the
audience, and that's what held the rush back and gave you and the
other gentleman time. You wouldn't think, to look at his face now"--
with a glance across at Farrell, who was sending out to inquire if
his car had arrived, and looking at his watch (for, you'll
understand, the meeting had broken up early in spite of my oratorical
effort)--"you wouldn't believe, Sir Roderick, that there was anything
deep in the man. Nor perhaps there isn't. It didn't seem to me,
just half a minute, that it was Mr. Farrell inside Mr. Farrell's
clothes and looking out of his eyes."
"Then _who_, in the world?" I asked.
The steward gave himself a shake. "Speak low, sir, and don't turn
round. . . . I was a fool to mention his name--folks always hear
their own names quicker than anything else. He's looking our way,
suspicious-like.
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