"I was indeed, sir," answered Mr. Lovely pulling forward an armchair into the blaze and stretching his damp legs towards the genial warmth.
"My name is Repington," said the old gentleman.
"Eh! What?"
"Sir George Repington."
Charles stared at him.
"And mine, sir, is Lovely, Charles Lovely."
"My nephew—humph—'tis your existence which has attracted me so many miles West."
"I did not think you knew of my existence," said Charles half sneering.
"You never condescended to inform your uncle of your movements."
"Sir," said the nephew, a smile of bitter recollection twisting the corners of his mouth. "I did not flatter myself that any attention on my side was welcome."