human
Good-bye, Cyril--shake hands, won't you? And you might write a line to me now and then, to let me know how you're getting on. I'd have had a boy of your age myself, no doubt, if--if I hadn't made a fool of myself earlier in life, and I've got to make up for it now. But it makes me rather soft for youngsters. Good-bye, Sir Ross, and good luck. Clear out of this ill-fated inheritance for a time, until things blow over. You'll find there'll be a different aspect of affairs when you come back with your vision cleared. Mr. Narkom, come along. At least we've beaten the Coroner at his own business, and that's always a feather in a policeman's cap, eh, old friend?