"I am," conceded the architect.
Very definitely Jaffrey Bretton drew back a little from the door and pointed to the passageway. "Trot along!" he smiled. "And you?" he asked the old gentleman.
"I am Miss Merriwayne's oldest trustee," asserted that dignitary with some unctuousness.
"Trot along!" smiled Jaffrey Bretton.
With punctilious courtesy he waved the Dean's lovely old mother after them. "For the moment," he begged her, "you will pardon my peremptoriness? The thing that remains to be said is said best to the least numbers."
"But I—I like—your little girl!" protested the frail but determinate aristocrat.
"So do I!" smiled Bretton, but nodded her out.
"Who are you?" demanded Bretton of the only man but Kaire who remained.
"I am John Burnarde!" said the man, quite invincibly.
"I thought so!" said Bretton.