"Give me that sketch."
Jack handed it back. In another moment it was littering the ground in four pieces, and the door had banged behind the indignant draftsman.
"What on earth have I done?" cried the Duke, aghast.
"You have offended Llewellyn," replied Claude shortly.
"How? By what I said? I'll run after him this minute and apologise. I never meant to hurt his feelings. Where's that stove-pipe hat?"
"Let me go," said Stubbs, getting up. "I understand the creative animal; it is thin-skinned; but I'll tell our friend what you say."
"I wish you would. Tell him I meant no harm. And fetch him down with you just whenever you can come."
"Thanks—that will be very pleasing. I daresay August will be our best time, but we shall let you know. I'll put it all right with Ivor; but these creative asses (saving your presence, Lafont) never can see a joke."
"A joke!" cried Jack, when he and Claude were alone.
"Stubbs is ironical," said Claude severely.