"You know more, then, doctor ?" Bryce motioned his visitors to draw their chairs nearer to his, and when he spoke it was in the low, concentrated tones of a man who means business--and confidential business.
"Now look here, Mitchington," he said, "and you, too, Mr.Jettison, as you're on this job--I'm going to talk straight to both of you.

And to begin with, I'll make a bold assertion--I know more of this Wrychester Paradise mystery--involving the deaths of both Braden and Collishaw, than any man living--because, though you don't know it, Mitchington, I've gone right into it.

And I'll tell you in confidence why I went into it--I want to marry Dr.Ransford's ward, Miss Bewery!" Bryce accompanied this candid admission with a look which seemed to say: Here we are, three men of the world, who know what things are--we understand each other! And while Jettison merely nodded comprehendingly, Mitchington put his thoughts into words.
"To be sure, doctor, to be sure!" he said.

"And accordingly--what's their affair, is yours! Of course!" "Something like that," assented Bryce.

"Naturally no man wishes to marry unless he knows as much as he can get to know about the woman he wants, her family, her antecedents--and all that.