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Peagreen Incorruptibleā€™ā ā€”friendā€™s name suppressed, owing to implications of story, but girl vouches for what was said. She thought no more about it till the milkman brought news this morning of the excitement at Queen Caroline Mansions; then she went round, though not likinā€™ the police as a rule, and asked the man there whether the dead gentleman had a beard and glasses. Told he had glasses but no beard, she incautiously said: ā€˜Oh, then, it isnā€™t him,ā€™ and the man said: ā€˜Isnā€™t who?ā€™ and collared her. Thatā€™s her story. Suggā€™s delighted, of course, and quodded Thipps on the strength of it.ā€

ā€œDear me,ā€ said the Duchess, ā€œI hope the poor girl wonā€™t get into trouble.ā€

ā€œShouldnā€™t think so,ā€ said Lord Peter. ā€œThipps is the one thatā€™s going to get it in the neck. Besides, heā€™s done a silly thing. I got that out of Sugg, too, though he was sittinā€™ tight on the information. Seems Thipps got into a confusion about the train he took back from Manchester. Said first he got home at 10:30. Then they pumped Gladys Horrocks, who let out he wasnā€™t back till after 11:45. Then Thipps, beinā€™ asked to explain the discrepancy, stammers and bungles and says, first, that he missed the train. Then Sugg makes inquiries at St. Pancras and discovers that he left a bag in the cloakroom there at ten. Thipps, again asked to explain, stammers worse anā€™ says he walked about for a few hoursā ā€”met a friendā ā€”canā€™t say whoā ā€”didnā€™t meet a friendā ā€”canā€™t say what he did with his timeā ā€”canā€™t explain why he didnā€™t go back for his bagā ā€”canā€™t say what time he did get inā ā€”canā€™t explain how he got a bruise on his forehead. In fact, canā€™t explain himself at all. Gladys Horrocks interrogated again. Says, this time, Thipps came in at 10:30. Then admits she didnā€™t hear him come in. Canā€™t say why she didnā€™t hear him come in. Canā€™t say why she said first of all that she did hear him. Bursts into tears. Contradicts herself. Everybodyā€™s suspicion roused. Quod ā€™em both.ā€

ā€œAs you put it, dear,ā€ said the Duchess, ā€œit all sounds very confusing, and not quite respectable. Poor little Mr. Thipps would be terribly upset by anything that wasnā€™t respectable.ā€

ā€œI wonder what he did with himself,ā€ said Lord Peter thoughtfully. ā€œI really donā€™t think he was committing a murder. Besides, I believe the fellow has been dead a day or two, though it donā€™t do to build too much on doctorsā€™ evidence. Itā€™s an entertaininā€™ little problem.ā€

ā€œVery curious, dear. But so sad about poor Sir Reuben. I must write a few lines to Lady Levy; I used to know her quite well, you know, dear, down in Hampshire, when she was a girl. Christine Ford, she was then, and I remember so well the dreadful trouble there was about her marrying a Jew. That was before he made his money, of course, in that oil business out in America. The family wanted her to marry Julian Freke, who did so well afterwards and was connected with the family, but she fell in love with this Mr. Levy and eloped with him. He was very handsome, then, you know, dear, in a foreign-looking way, but he hadnā€™t any means, and the Fords didnā€™t like his religion. Of course weā€™re all Jews nowadays, and they wouldnā€™t have minded so much if heā€™d pretended to be something else, like that Mr. Simons we met at Mrs. Porchesterā€™s, who always tells everybody that he got his nose in Italy at the Renaissance, and claims to be descended somehow or other from La Bella Simonettaā ā€”so foolish, you know, dearā ā€”as if anybody believed it; and Iā€™m sure some Jews are very good people, and personally Iā€™d much rather they believed something, though of course it must be very inconvenient, what with not working on Saturdays and circumcising the poor little babies and everything depending on the new moon and that funny kind of meat they have with such a slang-sounding name, and never being able to have bacon for breakfast. Still, there it was, and it was much better for the girl to marry him if she was really fond of him, though I believe young Freke was really devoted to her, and theyā€™re still great friends. Not that there was ever a real engagement, only a sort of understanding with her father, but heā€™s never married, you know, and lives all by himself in that big house next to the hospital, though heā€™s very rich and distinguished now, and I know ever so many people have tried to get hold of himā ā€”there was Lady Mainwaring wanted him for that eldest girl of hers, though I remember saying at the time it was no use expecting a surgeon to be taken in by a figure that was all paddingā ā€”they have so many opportunities of judging, you know, dear.ā€

ā€œLady Levy seems to have had the knack of makinā€™ people devoted to her,ā€ said Peter. ā€œLook at the pea-green incorruptible Levy.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s quite true, dear; she was a most delightful girl, and they say her daughter is just like her. I rather lost sight of them when she married, and you know your father didnā€™t care much about business people, but I know everybody always said they were a model couple. In fact it was a proverb that Sir Reuben was as well loved at home as he was hated abroad. I donā€™t mean in foreign countries, you know, dearā ā€”just the proverbial way of putting thingsā ā€”like ā€˜a saint abroad and a devil at homeā€™ā ā€”only the other way on, reminding one of the Pilgrimā€™s Progress.ā€

ā€œYes,ā€ said Peter, ā€œI daresay the old man made one or two enemies.ā€

ā€œDozens, dearā ā€”such a dreadful place, the City, isnā€™t it? Everybody Ishmaels togetherā ā€”though I donā€™t suppose Sir Reuben would like to be called that, would he? Doesnā€™t it mean illegitimate, or not a proper Jew, anyway? I always did get confused with those Old Testament characters.ā€

Lord Peter laughed and yawned.

ā€œI think Iā€™ll turn in for an hour or two,ā€

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