Mr. Ganns ordered coffee, took snuff, and bade Mark listen and not
interrupt.
"We're going into this thing together and I want you to get a clear
hunch on it," he began, "because at present you have not. I don't
say we shall see it through; but if we do, the credit's going to be
yours, not mine. We'll come to the Redmayne business in a minute.
But first let us have a look at Mr. Mark Brendon, if it won't bore
you stiff."
The other laughed.
"He's not a very impressive object, so far as this case is
concerned, Mr. Ganns."
"He is not," admitted Peter genially. "Quite the reverse, in fact.
And his poor showing has puzzled Mr. Brendon a good bit, and some of
his superior officers also. So let us examine the situation from
that angle before we get up against the problem itself."
He stirred his coffee, poured a thimbleful of cognac into it, sipped
it, and then slid into a comfortable position in his armchair, put
his big hands into his trousers pockets, and regarded Mark with a
steady and unblinking stare.
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