THIRD NARRATIVE
9. CHAPTER IX
(continued)
In saying those words, he had touched, of his own accord,
on the very point upon which I was anxious to consult him.
The interest I felt in this strange man had impelled me,
in the first instance, to give him the opportunity of speaking
to me; reserving what I might have to say, on my side,
in relation to his employer, until I was first satisfied that
he was a person in whose delicacy and discretion I could trust.
The little that he had said, thus far, had been sufficient
to convince me that I was speaking to a gentleman.
He had what I may venture to describe as the UNSOUGHT
SELF-POSSESSION, which is a sure sign of good breeding,
not in England only, but everywhere else in the civilised world.
Whatever the object which he had in view, in putting
the question that he had just addressed to me, I felt
no doubt that I was justified--so far--in answering him
without reserve.
"I believe I have a strong interest," I said, "in tracing
the lost remembrance which Mr. Candy was unable to recall.
May I ask whether you can suggest to me any method by which I
might assist his memory?"
Ezra Jennings looked at me, with a sudden flash of interest
in his dreamy brown eyes.
"Mr. Candy's memory is beyond the reach of assistance," he said.
"I have tried to help it often enough since his recovery, to be able
to speak positively on that point."
This disappointed me; and I owned it.
"I confess you led me to hope for a less discouraging answer than that,"
I said.
Ezra Jennings smiled. "It may not, perhaps, be a final answer, Mr. Blake.
It may be possible to trace Mr. Candy's lost recollection, without the
necessity of appealing to Mr. Candy himself."
"Indeed? Is it an indiscretion, on my part, to ask how?"
"By no means. My only difficulty in answering your question,
is the difficulty of explaining myself. May I trust to
your patience, if I refer once more to Mr. Candy's illness:
and if I speak of it this time without sparing you certain
professional details?"
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