“Young Mr. Forshaw’s here, sir. You’re Mr. Daventry, I think you said, sir.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll tell the young governor, sir! Can I say you’ve a mind to purchase?”
“Oh yes!” cut in Peter impetuously. “I’m representing my firm on behalf of a very——”
He checked himself—suddenly. It occurred to him that there was absolutely no need to mention Stewart’s name at this juncture and perhaps more than one excellent reason for withholding it. He thought of Stewart’s phrase concerning discretion.
“Very good, sir,” said the man. “I’ll bring young Mr. Forshaw along to you in half a minute.”
He was as good as his word. A young man bustled up, wiping his hands upon a duster.
“Mr. Daventry?” queried Forshaw. Peter bowed!
“You wished to have a look at something included in to-morrow’s sale? What is it exactly?”
“It’s not an ‘it,’ ” responded Peter jocularly. And then with scant regard for the inclination of the verb “to be”—“it’s a ‘them.’ ”