"Yes."
"And you call on my afternoon off, that's most unlucky." He talked all right but his legs were uncertain, and when he stood up he found the mantelpiece useful. "Rheumatism, I'm a martyr to it," he said.
"Very painful," I remarked, and got off my soda-water case.
"Don't get up, it's passing off. If you're from Oxford, I must put on a coat and collar. Would you oblige me with your name?"
"Godfrey Marten," I said.
"Colonel Marten's son? Here, sit in this chair. I must put on two coats," and he made a most gurgly kind of sound which must have meant that he was amused with himself. Then he looked towards the door as if wondering whether he could reach it.
"Please don't put on anything for me," I said, and I took his arm and directed him back to the chair.
"Your father saved my life, and you're the very image of him. It's enough to upset an old man like me," and without the slightest warning tears began to roll down his checks.
"Cheer up," I said, for I felt very uncomfortable.
"And you'll go and tell him that you found me—that you called on my afternoon off."