"You're pleased to be vague," said Chetwode, bowing.
"Oh, all right! Then you can't do it?" Savile stood up.
"Please, Savile, no violence! Take another cigarette. Of course, the idea is that I must talk to somebody. Perhaps Teignmouth——"
"Put the whole thing before him," said Savile.
"The beastly part is no one will stand being talked to about things, and everybody hates having the whole matter put before them—unless it's gossip. Then, by Jove, won't they go into details!"
Savile controlled his feelings, and said, "Well, here's a romantic story, a lovely girl—young man disinherited——"
Chetwode visibly shrank from the explicitness.
"All right, old boy. Look here, I see your point—I give you my word I'll try."
Savile, terrified at the thought that he might have been a bore, got up again and held out his hand.
"When will you let me know?"