“Ah, Griggs,” he remarked. “Committee talk you out of the house?”
“Something of the sort,” I admitted.
“Glad you came in. There's something I want to—but hang up your hat.”
“Hawkins,” I said, closing the door, “why do you pay a large overfed English gentleman to stand around the premises if it's necessary for you to answer the bell? I'm not much on style, you know, but——”
“William? Oh, it's his night out,” laughed Hawkins. “I believe the cook and the girls have gone, too, for that matter.”
“Then we're altogether alone?”
“Yes,” said the inventor comfortably, pushing forward one of the big library chairs for my accommodation, “all alone in the house.”
“And it's a mighty nice house,” I mused, gazing into the next apartment, the dining-room. “That's a splendid room, Hawkins.”
“Isn't it?” smiled Hawkins, drawing back the heavy curtains rather proudly. “Most of the little wrinkles are my own ideas, too.”
“That sideboard?” I asked, indicating a frail-looking but artistic bit of furniture built into the wall.