Evidently Gordon didn’t. He began to rub the back of a chair listlessly. He had no heart in his work, and without enthusiasm even dusting is a failure.
Bobbie opened the door and found Mr. Superbus sitting on the bottom stair, manicuring his nails with a clasp-knife.
“Giving you any trouble, sir?” he asked eagerly, and was disappointed when Bobbie Selsbury shook his head.
“None whatever.” He walked back into the room. “Now then, Uncle Isaac, clear out!”
“Did he try to escape, sir?” asked the interested custodian.
Bobbie laughed his Cain and Abel laugh. His brother wondered where Diana kept her little gun.
“Did he try to escape? I should jolly well say he did!” said Bobbie. “Look after him, Mr. Superbus. You have in your able hands a man of singular cunning and resource.”
Mr. Superbus shook his head sorrowfully.
“You’re a naughty old Uncle Isaac, that’s what you are,” he said. “I’m surprised at you.”
Gordon collected his dusters and staggered from the room. He was at the end of his dream.