“Queer story.  A Mrs. Quodling, a widow, or believed to be a widow, came in for a large sum of money under the will of Lord Polperro, the second baron—­uncle, I am told, of his present lordship.  This will was contested by the family; a very complicated affair, Beeching tells me.  Mrs. Quodling, whose character was attacked, declared that she knew Lord Polperro in an honourable way, and that he had taken a great interest in her children—­two young boys.  Now these boys were produced in court, then it was seen—­excellent soup this—­that they bore little if any resemblance to each other; and at the same time it was made evident, by exhibition of a portrait, that the younger boy had a face with a strong likeness to the testator, and many witnesses declared the same.  Interesting, isn’t it?”

“For the widow,” remarked Gammon.

“Uncommonly awkward, though she gained her case for all that.  Polperro, it seems, had a shady reputation—­heavy drinker, and so on.  There were strong characteristics—­some peculiarity of the nose.  The old chap used to say that there was the nose of the Bourbons and the nose of the Trefoyles, his family name.”

“What name?”

“Trefoyle.  Cornish, you know.  Rum lot they always seem to have been.  Barony created by George III for some personal service.  The first Polperro is said to have lived a year or two as a gipsy, and at another time as a highwayman.  There’s a portrait of him, Beeching tells me, in somebody’s history of Cornwall, showing to perfection the Trefoyle nose.”

“Same as Quodling’s, then,” exclaimed Gammon.  “Quodling, the broker?”

“Precisely.  I would suggest, my dear fellow, that you don’t speak quite so loud.  Francis Quodling was the boy who so strongly resembled the Lord Polperro of the lawsuit.  Nose with high arch, and something queer about the nostril.”

“Yes! and hanged if it isn’t just the same as—­”

A deprecatory gesture from his friend stopped Gammon on the point of uttering the name “Clover.”  Again he had sinned against the proprieties by unduly raising his voice, and he subsided in confusion.

“You were going to say?” murmured the host politely.

“Oh, nothing.  There’s a man I know has just the same nose, that’s all.”

“That’s very interesting.  And considering the Polperro reputation, it wouldn’t surprise me to come across a good many such noses.  You remember my favourite speculation.  It comes in very well here, doesn’t it?  Is all this information of any service to you?”

“Much obliged to you for your trouble.  I don’t know that I can make any use of it; but yes, it does give a sort of hint.”