“So you’re not living at home?”
“I have no home now, sir.”
“Just so, just so. Brought up in refined surroundings, parents dead, crabbed old uncle turned you out of doors for reasons best known to himself—”
Phil was amazed.
“You seem to know all about me, sir.”
“Of course. It’s my business to know something about everything. I ought to thank you for getting Mrs. Sparling out of that mix-up this morning, but I’ll let her do that for herself. She wants to see you after the performance.”
“I don’t like to be thanked, Mr. Sparling, though I should like to know Mrs. Sparling,” said Phil boldly.
“Neither do I, neither do I. Emperor has gone daffy over you. What did you feed him?”
“Some sugar and peanuts. That was all.”
“Huh! You ought to be a showman.”