"
"It's what I said he'd do," said Doyle, "and I'm not surprised."
"If you understood the peculiar and delicate relations which exist
between that judge and Miss King--but of course you don't, and I,
unfortunately, can't explain them to you. If you did, you'd see at
once that the judge must simply have forced himself on Miss King,
using, I have no doubt, the most unchivalrous and despicable threats to
achieve his end. Considering that he's getting his board and lodging
out of her he might very well be prosecuted for blackmail. Just
conceive to yourself, Doyle-- But I can't talk about it. Where's the
bicycle?"
"You took it out with you to Portsmouth Lodge last night," said Doyle,
"and so far as I know you didn't bring it back again. But there's an
old one in the stable belonging to Patsy Flaherty, and you can take
that if you like."
"It can't be worse than yours," said Meldon, "with that loose pedal.
Just you wheel it round to the door for me, and pump up the tyres if
they want it. There's something I forgot to ask Sabina. I'll go
through the kitchen, and meet you by the time you have the machine
ready."
He darted into the kitchen, leaving Doyle to tie up his pony and pump
the bicycle.
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