"You mustn't do unfriendly things, you know," he said. "You mustn't systematically run down my work in your papers. That wouldn't be fair. I intend, I may tell you, to hold my tongue about you for the future. I shan't—I shan't even want to abuse you any more. As for what I have heard about you in this last hour, it is quite safe with me, unless you somehow or other provoke me to mention it. I just want my contract, and then I shall have done with you."
Craddock got up, and unlocked a pigeon-holed desk in the corner of the room. There were a quantity of papers in it. Of these he took out one from the pigeon-hole A, another from that of L. He glanced at these and handed one to each of the young men. Frank read carefully over what was written on his, and then folded it up, and put it in his pocket.
"Thank you, that is all," he said.
Charles stood with his contract in his hand, not glancing at it. Instead he looked at the large white-faced man in front of him.
"We have more to talk about," he said. "Shall we—wouldn't it be better if we got it over at once? If you wish I will come in later."
The uncontrolled irritability of nerves jangled and overstrung seized Craddock.
"For God's sake let us have finished with it now," he said, "unless you've got some fresh excitement to spring on me. What do you want me to do? And why does he wait there?" he said pointing to Frank.
Charles nodded to Frank.
"I'll go then," he said.