“You are out of your path here. That I can assert.”
“For ‘Delsrop’ House?”
The long man’s fist jerked, so that his float bobbed on the water.
“For where?” said he.
The float slid out of sight. Mechanically he reeled up, bungled, and lost his fish. Curiously, he seemed little affected by the calamity.
“What place?” he repeated, busy with his hook.
“‘Delsrop,’ ’tis called—a house somewhere in the neighbourhood.”
“Why, what d’ye seek thither?”
“Surely, sir, you are a fool by your own showing. Rest content. I only seek my own.”
“Your own—‘Delsrop?’”