“Does it?” The Complete Man laughed with a significant joviality.
“Won’t you take off your coat?”
“No, thanks,” said Gumbril. “I’ll keep it on.”
“Well,” said the leprechaun, leaning back in his chair and twinkling, bird-like, across the table.
“Well,” repeated Gumbril on a different tone from behind the stooks of his corn-like beard. He smiled, feeling serenely strong and safe.
“I’m sorry we should have disagreed,” said Mr. Boldero.
“So am I,” the Complete Man replied. “But we shan’t disagree for long,” he added, with significance; and as he spoke the words he brought down his fist with such a bang, that the inkpots on Mr. Boldero’s very solid mahogany writing-table trembled and the pens danced, while Mr. Boldero himself started with a genuine alarm. He had not expected them. And now he came to look at him more closely, this young Gumbril was a great, hulking, dangerous-looking fellow. He had thought he would be easy to manage. How could he have made such a mistake?
Gumbril left the office with Mr. Boldero’s cheque for three hundred and fifty pounds in his pocket and an annual income of eight hundred. His bruised right hand was extremely tender to the touch. He was thankful that a single blow had been enough.
CHAPTER XI
Gumbril had spent the afternoon at Bloxam Gardens. His chin was still sore from the spirit gum with which he had attached to it the symbol of the Complete Man; he was feeling also a little fatigued. Rosie had been delighted to see him; St. Jerome had gone on solemnly communicating all the time.