I took refuge once
more in the explanatory phrases with which I had prepared myself to meet
the curiosity of strangers.
This time I had no reason to complain of a want of attention on the
part of the person to whom I addressed myself. Ezra Jennings listened
patiently, even anxiously, until I had done.
"I am sorry to have raised your expectations, Mr. Blake, only to
disappoint them," he said. "Throughout the whole period of Mr. Candy's
illness, from first to last, not one word about the Diamond escaped his
lips. The matter with which I heard him connect your name has, I can
assure you, no discoverable relation whatever with the loss or the
recovery of Miss Verinder's jewel."
We arrived, as he said those words, at a place where the highway along
which we had been walking branched off into two roads. One led to Mr.
Ablewhite's house, and the other to a moorland village some two or three
miles off. Ezra Jennings stopped at the road which led to the village.
"My way lies in this direction," he said. "I am really and truly sorry,
Mr. Blake, that I can be of no use to you."
His voice told me that he spoke sincerely. His soft brown eyes rested on
me for a moment with a look of melancholy interest.
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