Plucritus threw the paper away and jumped up, turning to me. “Good—” but he never finished the salutation; instead, he ended with a violent “Idiot!” that lost nothing by the change in his tone.
“Well,” said I, “as long as you send me a servant who cannot speak one word, what can you expect of me?”
“Common sense,” he answered. “Let us have breakfast.”
The meal was not a pleasant one. Afterwards Vestné left us alone; this hour of the morning seemed one of her busiest. Plucritus led the way to the library, and when we were there he closed the door.
“Genius,” he said at last, “it is very easy to see what you mean by appearing like this.”
“I mean nothing,” I replied, “except that I find my own apparel the more suitable. For my own part I think it is a very childish thing to quarrel over.”
For a short time there was silence, till at last he asked,—
“How did you like Vestasian?”
“I found him a very interesting companion.”
“More so than me?”