“Should you feel any objection to act for me in the matter,—I mean, to see Davis?”
Twining winced like a man in pain.
“Why, after all, it is a mere negotiation.”
“Very true, my Lord.”
“A mere experiment.”
“Just so, my Lord; so is proving a new cannon; but I'd just as soon not sit on the breech for the first fire.”
“It's wonderful how every one is afraid of this fellow, and I wind him round my finger!”
“Tact, my Lord,—tact and cleverness, that's it.”
“You see, Twining,” said Beecher, confidentially, “I'm not quite clear that I 'd like to be off. I have n't regularly made up my mind about it. There's a good deal to be said on either side of the question. I'll tell you what to do: come and breakfast with us to-morrow morning,—I 'd say dine, but I mean to get away early and push on towards the South; you shall see her, and then—and then we 'll have a talk afterwards.”
“Charmed, my Lord,—delighted,—too happy. What 's your hour?”