But he added that if the Memorialists would
kindly put these charges into writing, defining the practices
complained of, and naming the persons accused, they should be dealt
with in the proper way which (he understood) the law provided."
"Capital," said I. "Your Principal is no fool. Go off straight and
consult him. Take these papers--the whole bundle--"
Foe took them up and pushed them into the pockets of his great-coat.
"_You_ think he's dangerous?" he asked again, in an absent-minded
way.
"Eh? . . . Oh, you're talking of Farrell?" said I. "Farrell's a
fool, and fools are always dangerous."
Thereupon Jack Foe did and said that which I had afterwards some
cause to remember. He passed his hand over his forehead, much as a
man might brush away a cobweb flung across his evening walk between
hedges. "That man makes me tired," he said; "extraordinarily tired.
For two nights I've been trying not to dream about him. It was very
good of you to come, Roddy. You shall run me over in your taxi and
I'll speak to Travers. If the man is a fool--"
"A dangerous fool," I corrected.
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