"You're matchmaking. I was diagnosing," he said.
Naylor apologized. "I've a desperate instinct to fit all these young
fellows up with mates as soon as possible. Isn't it only fair?"
"And also extremely expedient. But it's the sort of thing you can leave
to them, can't you?"
"As to Beaumaroy--I suppose you meant him, not Alec--I think you must
have been talking to old Tom Punnit--or, rather, hearing him talk."
"Punnit's general view is sound enough, I think, as to the man's
characteristics; but he doesn't appreciate his cunning."
"Cunning?" Naylor was openly astonished. "He doesn't strike me as a
cunning man, not in the least."
"Possibly, possibly, I say--not in his ends, but in his means and
expedients. That's my view. I just put it on record, Naylor. I never like
talking too much about my cases."
"Beaumaroy's not your patient, is he?"
"His employer, I suppose he's his employer, Saffron is. Well, I thought
it advisable to see Saffron alone. I tried to. Saffron was reluctant,
this man here openly against it. Next time I shall insist. Because I
think, mind you, at present I no more than think, that there's more in
Saffron's case than meets the eye.
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