"I couldn't find one to pay me much worse."
"Look here, my dear, I'm not out huntin' for repartee. I want to have an understanding with you."
"I don't see why."
"Yes, you do, well enough. You know I like you—in spite of your impudence."
"And I dislike you because of yours. Oh, do go away and leave me, Mr. Stokes."
"I won't. I've got a lot to say to you. I've only just begun, but you keep interruptin' me, and I can't get ahead."
"Finish then."
"Well, what I want to say is this. I always meant we should stop at Fontainebleau."
"Oh—you damaged your stepfather's car on purpose! He would be obliged to you."
"Not quite that. I intended to get them to have tea here, and while they were moonin' about I was going to have a chat with you. I was goin' to tell you about that card to Charretier, and somethin' else. That the duchess asked me where we would stop in Paris, and I told her at the best there is, of course—Hotel Athenée. She said she'd wire her friends you'd run away from, that they could find you there; and if Charretier wasn't at Fontainebleau when we passed through, these people would certainly know where to get at him. I warned you the other night, didn't I? that if you wouldn't be good and confide in me I'd find out what you refused to tell me yourself; and I have, you see. Clever, aren't I?"