"In plain words, Sir Robert, you wish me to understand that your discovery is for you and not for the world."
"Hardly that, my dear Pinsent. Merely that I propose to choose my own time for taking the world into my confidence—and that of Dr. Belleville," he added, bowing to his friend.
"An unusual course for a professed scientist to adopt."
"I have very little sympathy with conventionality," cooed Sir Robert.
"And I," said Belleville.
"The point of view of two burglars," I observed. I scowled at Belleville.
"You shall be as rude as you please. You saved my life," said Sir Robert.
Dr. Belleville cleared his throat. "Ahem—Ahem," said he, "the discourtesy of the disappointed is—ahem—is a tribute to the merits of the more successful."
In my rage I descended to abuse. "You are a nasty old swindler," I said to Sir Robert, "but your grey hair protects you for the present. But, as for you, sir," I turned to Belleville, "you black bull-dog—if you dare so much as to open your lips to me again, I'll wring your flabby nose off."
The baronet turned scarlet; the Doctor went livid; but neither of them said a word.