"Often; there have been plenty of scoundrels before you, if you find that any consolation." "Don't imagine that because I endeavour to retain my self-control in the midst of this--this sudden nightmare that I am incapable of showing resentment; if that is what you imagine, you are wrong, Mr. Morgan. What grounds have you for asserting that I forged that bill, or any bill?" "Mr. Clifford, drop the mask; the time for bluff has gone; try to be candid. You see, Mr. Nash and I know all about it." "Do you? It so happens that I don't. I ask you again, what grounds have you for asserting that I've committed forgery? Don't be vague; be specific." "I happen to know the man to whom you gave the bills." "Do you? What's his name?" "Sir Henry Trevor." "Sir Henry Trevor? Harry Trevor? Do you venture to affirm that Harry Trevor says he got forged bills from me, or any bills?" "He took them to the discounters; when they asked where he got them from, he said they came from you. What he got for them, or what share you had of the plunder, I can't say; at present I'd rather not know; these are details which may come out at the Old Bailey." Up to then Frank Clifford had kept his countenance to a wonderful degree; but when Mr. Morgan spoke of the Old Bailey his lips flickered, as they might have done had he been suddenly attacked by St. Vitus' Dance; the movement passed, he was calm again. "Will you let me look at that bill you're holding? I'll not touch it; I merely want to look." "I'll take care you don t touch it. You can look at an old friend. "What is the signature it bears?" "Don't know? I'll tell you. Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea." "Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea? And who is Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea?" "Really, Mr. Clifford, when you didn't become an actor what the stage lost! and now-a-days there are so few actors who are to the manner born. It's the very gist of your offending, you sly scamp, that you made such use of the knowledge you had surreptitiously obtained that Joseph Oldfield, of Peter Piper's Popular Pills, was Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea." Clifford stared, as if the other had been speaking in a foreign language. "What's that? Would you mind saying that again?" "I'll not say it again; I'll not pipe to your dancing, you brazen vagabond!" "Are you hinting that Joseph Oldfield is, or was, I don't know which it ought to be, a pseudonym? that he had, or has, another name?" "Is that the trick you're trying to play? You wish it to be believed that you didn't know there was such a person as Donald Lindsay; that he and Joseph Oldfield were one and the same; and that in putting the name upon a bill stamp you did it innocently, in ignorance that was childlike and bland. The idea is ingenious; as, I fancy, Mr. Clifford, most of your ideas are; but you won't find a judge or jury quite so simple."