"I'm sorry you feel like that about him. As I was tellin' him, when I heard your tap here at the window—"
"But I don't—and I wasn' tappin' for you, either."
"Appears not," said Mr Philp, with a glance at the empty glass in Cai's hand.
"Where is he? Still in the garden, d'ye say?"
"Ay: somewheres down by the summer-house. Says I, when I heard you tappin', 'That's Cap'n Hocken,' says I, 'signallin' me to come an wish him joy, an' maybe to join him in a drink over his luck. And why not?' says I. 'Stranger things have happened.'"
"You'll excuse me. . . . If he's in his garden, I want a chat with him."
Cai hurried out to the front door.
"Maybe you'd like me to go with you," suggested Mr Philp, ready for him.
"Maybe I'd like nothin' of the sort," snapped Cai. "Why should I?"
"Well, if you ask me, he didn' seem in the best o' tempers, and it might come handy to take along a witness."
"No, thank'ee," said Cai with some asperity. "You just run along and annoy somebody else."