"That's it," said Foster, still looking stolidly at his chief. "But I
know Sir Winterton; he'd only say what he did before."
Quisante turned, flung the end of his cigar into the grate, and turned
back to Foster, saying,
"Mr. Williams must do as he thinks right; but of course I can't have any
hand in a matter of that kind."
"Just so, just so," murmured Foster as hurriedly but even more vaguely
than usual. His chief was puzzling him still.
"I can't have anything at all to do with it," Quisante repeated
emphatically. Foster did not quite know whence he gathered the
impression, but he was left with the feeling that, if he should chance
ever to be asked what had passed between them on the subject, he must
remember this sentence at least, whatever else of the conversation he
recollected or forgot.
"Of course you can't, sir. I only mentioned it in passing," said he.
"And you'd better tell Japhet Williams so, if he mentions the matter."
The slightest pause followed. "Or," added Quisante, grinding his heel
into the hearth rug as though in absence of mind, "if it happens to crop
up in talk between you.
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