A bachelor can do himself pretty well on two thousand a year." "I only hope I get hold of it," Mr.Sydney Barnes declared fervently.
"This is the way I should like to live, this is." "I hope you will," Wrayson answered.

"An income of that sort could scarcely disappear into thin air, could it?
By the bye, Mr.Barnes, that reminds me of a very important circumstance which, up to now, we have not mentioned.

I mean the way your brother met with his death." The young man nodded thoughtfully.
"Ah!" he remarked, "he was murdered, wasn't he?
Some one must have owed him a nasty grudge.

Morris always was a one to make enemies." "I don't know whether the same thing has occurred to you," Wrayson continued, "but I can't help wondering whether there may not have been some connection between his death and that mysterious income of his." "I've thought of that myself," the young man declared.

"All the same, I can't see what he could have carried about with him worth two thousand a year." "Exactly," Wrayson answered, "but you see the matter stands like this.