When his servant had helped him on with his smoking-jacket and gone away, he stood in front of the fire and filled a pipe. He was ready to do Virginia's bidding and make friends with Humphrey, but he disliked the job, and didn't know exactly how he was going to begin. And he was going to speak plainly too. Humphrey had behaved badly, and he was going to tell him so—kindly.
Humphrey came in and lit a cigarette before either of them spoke. As he threw the match into the fire he said, "I suppose you want to have it out."
His tone was not conciliatory. He was both angry and nervous. Dick's brain cleared as if by magic. He had a situation to control.
"Well, I think we ought to have a talk," he said. "Things have been going wrong with me, and now they've come right, and you don't appear to be quite as much rejoiced at it as you might be."
"If you put it like that, I'm not rejoiced at all," said Humphrey, "and I'm not going to pretend to be."
"But you told Virginia you were," Dick put in.
Humphrey was for a moment disconcerted. "I'm glad as far as she's concerned," he said. "She oughtn't to have been treated as she has been, and I've always said so."
"Oh, have you?" commented Dick.
Humphrey flushed angrily. "If you think I've been working against you," he said, "it's quite untrue."
"Well, you've been working for your own hand, and it comes to much the same thing."