“I’m great friend old Brown’sh.”
“I’m busy,” Napier had repeated.
The visitor had sat down and begun to talk about Port Linton.
“Jewel shet in shea—”
Napier had pressed a button.
“Show this gentleman out,” he had said, when Sprague appeared.
The gentleman had protested vehemently, and had called Napier a “blasted little whippersnapper” and other things; but Sprague had taken his arm and got him out, murmuring soothing words in his ear.
“That was Captain Vincey, sir,” he had said, when he returned. “He’s Miss Craig’s uncle.”
He had spoken with a sort of horror, and he was horrified; but the new manager had only said:
“Don’t let him come in here again.”