"What now?"
"Ah, that I don't know!" replied Vickers, with a dry laugh. "I wish I
did. But--you know how people talk in these provincial places--ever since
that inquest there have been all sorts of rumours. Every club and public
place in Norcaster has been full of talk--gossip, surmise, speculation.
Naturally!"
"But--about what?" asked Copplestone.
"Squire Greyle, of course," said the young solicitor; "that inquest was
enough to set the whole country talking. Everybody thinks--they couldn't
think otherwise--that something is being hushed up. Everybody's agog to
know if Sir Cresswell Oliver and Mr. Petherton are applying for a
re-opening of the inquest. You've just come from town, I believe! Did you
hear anything?"
Copplestone was wondering whether he ought to tell his companion of his
own recent discoveries. Like all laymen, he had an idea that you can tell
anything to a lawyer, and he was half-minded to pour out the whole story
to Vickers, especially as he was Mrs. Greyle's solicitor. But on second
thoughts he decided to wait until he had ascertained the state of affairs
at Scarhaven.
"I didn't hear anything about that," he replied. "Of course, that inquest
was a mere travesty of what such an inquiry should have been."
"Oh, an utter farce!" agreed Vickers. "However, it produced just the
opposite effect to that which the wire-pullers wanted.
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