“I am sure of the unexpectedness,” I replied drily, taking no notice of the offer of his hand.
He drew himself up stiffly. “Am I to understand that your refusal of my hand is intentional?”
“Am I to understand on my side that you made the offer of it from any feeling of friendship?”
“That is a very extraordinary question.”
“It is not altogether an ordinary visit, Major Sampayo. It has more to do with business of a sort than friendship. I am right in thinking you do not feel very well disposed to me.”
“Oh, really I have no time just now for talk of that kind. I have been away from the city and have a great press of matters to attend to. Be good enough to state your business briefly.”
He said this in a very curt sharp tone and he crossed to a writing desk, unlocked it and began to turn over some papers.
I made no reply, but leant back in my chair and lighted a cigar. My silence worried him. He kept up a pretence of being very busy, opening a letter or two and making some notes as if ignoring my presence.
Then under the pretence of fetching a book, he rose and assumed surprise to find me still in the room. “Oh, are you still here?”
“Yes, still here, as you see—waiting.”