“Thank God, you’ve come,” he said jerkily. “Thank God, it is not too late. Who are you?” and he pointed abruptly to Mr. Deeling, but did not give him time to answer. “You are a warder, I suppose,” he said to Jones, who stood impassively beside Constance.
“Quietly, please, Mr. Godstone,” she said. “What is it that you want us to do?”
“But I am not Mr. Godstone,” he interrupted wildly. “I’ve told you that already. I am Doctor Murchison. I implore you to believe me. No, I will not ask you to believe me, for I can prove it. I can prove it in ten minutes. But you must give me the chance. I—I tremble for the consequences, if you don’t.”
He took a step forward, his hands outstretched and shaking.
Mr. Deeling, who was nearest him, recoiled.
“Look out,” he said, “the man may be dangerous. Hold
