Jimmie Dale shook his head in a quick, impatient gesture,
as though in irritation because his brain would not instantly respond to
his demand to formulate a plan. It seemed simple enough, old Kronische
was perfectly accessible--but it was, nevertheless, far from simple. He
could not go to old Kronische as Jimmie Dale, there was an ugly turn
that had been taken in that room of Forrester's now. If, as Jimmie
Dale, he had had reason to keep out of the affair before, it was
imperative that he should do so now--or he might find himself in a very
awkward situation, so awkward, in fact, that the consequences might lead
anywhere, and "anywhere" to Jimmie Dale, to the Gray Seal, to
Smarlinghue, might mean ruin, wreckage and disaster. Nor, much less,
could he risk going to old Kronische as Smarlinghue. He could not trust
old Kronische. How, if old Kronische chose to "talk," could Smarlinghue
account for any connection with what had transpired in Forrester's room?
How long would it be, even if Smarlinghue were no more than put under
surveillance, before the discovery would be made that Smarlinghue was
but a role that covered--Jimmie Dale!
And then Jimmie Dale's strained, set face relaxed a little.
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