"You see, if he went to work, he'd have got out at Warnworth;
and if he meant to come to town to consult his dentist, he'd have
taken the 9.30 express straight through from Tilgate, which gets
up to London twenty-five minutes earlier."
"Well, but why to consult his dentist in particular?" Nevitt asked
with a smile. He had very white teeth, and he smiled accordingly
perhaps a little oftener than was quite inevitable. "You Warings
are so absolute. I never knew any such fellows in my life as you
are. You decide things so beforehand. Why mightn't he have been
coming up to town, for example, to see a friend, or get himself
fresh colours?"
"Oh, I said 'to consult his dentist,'" Guy answered, in the most
matter-of-fact voice on earth, suppressing a tremor, "because you
know I've had toothache off and on myself, one day with another,
for the whole last fortnight. And it's a tooth that never ached
with either of us before-this one, you see"--he lifted his lip with
his forefinger--"the second on the left after the one we've lost.
If Cyril was coming up to town at all, I'm pretty sure it'd be his
tooth he was coming up to see about. I went to Eskell about mine
myself last Wednesday."
The elder man seated himself and leaned back in his chair, with
his violin in his lap; then he surveyed his friend long and curiously.
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