"Good stuff, those." Not until he had given Bryce a drink, and had carried his own glass to another easy chair did Folliot refer to any reason for Bryce's visit.
But once settled down, he looked at him speculatively.
"What did you want to see me about ?" he asked.
Bryce, who had lighted a cigar, looked across its smoke at the imperturbable face opposite.
"You've just had Glassdale here," he observed quietly.

"I saw him leave you." Folliot nodded--without any change of expression.
"Aye, doctor," he said.

"And--what do you know about Glassdale, now ?" Bryce, who would have cheerfully hobnobbed with a man whom he was about to conduct to the scaffold, lifted his glass and drank.
"A good deal," he answered as he set the glass down.

"The fact is--I came here to tell you so!--I know a good deal about everything." "A wide term!" remarked Folliot.

"You've got some limitation to it, I should think.