"Sit down," H.M. said, without preamble. "You're a fine feller, now, aren't you?"
Serpos almost laughed. The wary, twisting gleam was behind his eyes again; he was cool, and almost contemptuous. "Really, old boy," he said, "do you think you can ruffle me with any such nonsense as this? Stuff It is childish. I had expected better things of you."
H.M. eyed him down his nose.
"I hear the echo of some plays-" he said vaguely, and scowled. "You goin' to act like that, son? You ain't afraid of arrest?"
"No."
"You're almost the only person in the world who ain't, then. Why not?"
"Let's get this straight," said Serpos with a cool candour. "Because it wouldn't do, that's why. It wouldn't do at all. I'm a heritage from an old friend of Charters's; his old friend's son; delicate health; nice young fellow, first misstep. And I stole only counterfeit money. Oh, no; I shan't be arrested. I shall get the sack, of course. But then I shall go on and do better for myself, for I have ingratiating manners. Understand? — I suppose I must listen to your questions, because I have no choice. But I am not going to pay any attention to them when you use such childish tricks as threats of arrest."
Now this is the sort of talk that makes you want to hit a man. And it was also a very dangerous game to play with H.M. of all people. But H.M. remained stolid.
"Well, d'ye see, the arrest part of it is rather out of my jurisdiction. But, whatever happens, you're goin' to look an awful damn fool, son."
`Stuff! Nor with that sort of talk either."