The telephone bell rang. He stalked across to it. "Well?" he said. "What's that? Who did you say? Send him up at once." And then, with his jaw set and his hands thrust deep into his pockets, he took up a stand in the middle of the studio and waited.
It was Peter. He came in quietly and looked very tired. "Good morning, Mr. Townsend," he said.
The answer was sharp and antagonistic. "I don't agree with you."
Peter put down his hat and stick, went up to the artist and stood in front of him squarely and without fear. "You're going to withdraw what you said last night."
"You think so?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it was unjust and no man is hanged in these times before he's given a chance to defend himself."
"No one is going to hang you, Peter Guthrie. You've hanged yourself."
"No, no," said Peter, "that won't do. It isn't like you to adopt this attitude and I must ask you to treat me properly."