“Ah, then, now I understand your interest in automaton clocks. Your interest awakens mine. I myself am anxious to see the clock again. When will you be in Venice?”
“In a month or two,” I answered airily.
“A month or two, my dear friend!” he expostulated. “I must see my clock before that. I am thinking of having it repaired for Mrs. Gordon.”
He emphasized the “my.”
“I have thought of the same thing,” I said evasively.
“But, Mr. Hume, I beg you to understand that it is with Mrs. Gordon’s permission that I do so. Have you asked it?”
“Not yet,” I replied coolly, going up a couple of steps.
His face darkened.
“Then, since I have Mrs. Gordon’s permission, will you kindly write an order to your servant that he give it me on my return to Venice?”
“Unfortunately, that is impossible. You see, I have forestalled you. I have sent it to be repaired.”