“Thank you, sir. You could do me no greater kindness.”
“What d’ye mean?”
He glanced at me curiously.
“I know I’m here on sufferance, sir,” I said. “I know my presence is an open sore to Lady Skene. I’ve long been wanting to ask you something. I think I could find myself sooner, perhaps, if I were given elbow room. With all your liberality, I feel constrained in Evercreech. Let me have the lodge in the Caddle to fit up for myself and live in for the present, and until I’ve come to some decision.”
He stared a bit and laughed, and set to scraping his chin, his pale blue eyes measuring me.
“You shall have it certainly,” he said suddenly, “for your den, or hermitage, or what the devil you like. But it won’t do to cut the house connection, my boy. You must dine and bed at home. What makes you think you are not welcome here?”
“Not my stepfather, sir,” I said.
He turned to his papers, and dismissed me quickly; but called me back as I reached the door.
“After all,” he said, “perhaps you’re better out of the way just now.” His expression was extraordinarily complex. “Its coming to be the era of pap and flapdoodle—ridiculous, ain’t it, at this date—but——”
“Is that so, sir? I congratulate you.”