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fairly have been described as approachable.
    ‘The theory of what I’ve been talking about, George. Imposture, and so forth.’
    Gadberry was almost certain that Comberford hadn’t been talking about anything of the sort. It was just that he had this technique of assuming that you were more in the picture than you were.
    ‘Imposture and impersonation,’ Comberford amplified. ‘My idea is that il n’y a que le premier pas qui coûte . You follow me? Only get off to a flying start and–’
    ‘They did teach me a certain amount of French,’ Gadberry said with some indignation. ‘And no doubt you’re right.’
    ‘Once let suspicion stir, and nine-tenths of the battle is lost. So it’s a tremendous challenge. Fortunately, George, you do have – I can see that you have – a fairly rapid sort of cunning. Would you agree?’
    Gadberry didn’t feel constrained to agree. The tribute struck him as of a disobliging sort. If it was true – and he believed it was – that his mind did move with a tolerable speed, he had better get it so moving now. Comberford had conducted this affair at his own pace for long enough.
    ‘I think you said something about imposture and impersonation,’ he began. ‘Do you want me to impersonate you, or a younger brother of yours, or what?’
    ‘Me. Of course I can see that you’re a little younger than I am. But there will be nothing awkward about that. In fact, it may be psychologically advantageous. You’ll see.’
    ‘Is this just on one specific occasion?’
    ‘Good Lord, no! I’m not proposing, my dear George, to waste your time in perpetrating some mere practical joke. It’s nothing like that. Nothing like that, at all.’
    ‘For how long, then?’
    ‘Well, for quite a time.’ Comberford hesitated – which was something he hadn’t done before. ‘That’s where the challenge comes. And, of course, the reward.’
    ‘Is this imposture and impersonation criminal?’
    ‘Decidedly not. Morally, that’s to say.’
    ‘Morally?’
    ‘Everybody concerned will be happier and better off than they would otherwise have been. So it just can’t be wrong, can it?’
    ‘But a judge might think it wrong? I might be put in quod?’
    ‘Oh, most decidedly. You must be absolutely clear about that, my dear George, from the start. If you were found out, they’d put you away for years.’
    ‘And you as well.’
    ‘Certainly – if they could get hold of me.’ Nicholas Comberford smiled cheerfully. ‘The fact that we were in it together would make it conspiracy, or something like that. And they always make out that conspiracy is particularly bad. It just shows how unfair the law can be. Two chaps, and the penalty ought to be halved. Four chaps, and it ought to be quartered. You’d think the justice of that would be absolutely obvious, wouldn’t you? But the minds of magistrates don’t work that way. They’re unreasonable people. One should have nothing to do with them.’
    ‘What’s the risk of having something to do with them in this affair?’
    ‘Enormous, in a way.’ Comberford’s cheerfulness seemed to be increasing. ‘That’s to say, an outsider would see it as that. But just have faith in your own star – and, well, the risk’s merely minimal. You have faith in your star, haven’t you?’
    ‘Don’t be silly. I haven’t got a star.’
    ‘But of course you have!’ Comberford leant across the table. ‘Let me pour you another drop of brandy, and you’ll acknowledge the truth of what I say. In vino veritas , you know.’
    Seeing no cogency in this particular application of the tag, Gadberry declined the brandy. His cigar, he found, had gone out, and this gave him a moment to think.
    ‘You keep on talking about an old girl,’ he said. ‘Who is she, and just how does she come in?’
    ‘She’s my great-aunt. My Great-aunt Prudence. Just the right name for a great-aunt, wouldn’t you say? Have you any great-aunts of your own, by the way?’
    ‘No, I haven’t. I