"To go and shift a statement of that kind on to my shoulders like that, it's like the fellow's confounded impudence!"
For the moment Peter felt a twinge: could the other be referring to anything he had said himself in the music-room? But the Manager was evidently not angry with him, so it must be some other fellow. Only, Peter decided not to allude to the faulty working of the Time Cheques, as he had half-intended to do. Perkins was not in the mood for remonstrances just then.
"Most impudent, I must say," he replied. "By-the-way," he added carelessly, "what was the statement exactly?"
"Why, God bless my soul, sir!" cried the Manager, with unnecessary vehemence, "haven't I been telling you the whole story? Didn't you just ask me who the fellow was who has brought me into this business?"
"So I did," said Peter, "and—and who was he?"
"Your attention seems very wandering this evening! Why, I told you the old woman wouldn't give me his name."
Peter's alarm returned at this allusion to an old woman: what old woman could it be but the terrible matron whom he had encountered in the music-room? However, it was fortunate that she had not mentioned any names: if Perkins knew that he had put all the blame of his entanglements upon the Manager's broad shoulders, he would certainly consider it an ungrateful return for what was intended as a kindness.
"So you said before," he remarked; "some old women are so obstinate!"
"Obstinate? That's the first sensible remark you've made for a long while!" said his candid friend. "I should think she was obstinate! Why, I talked myself hoarse trying to make that old harridan believe that I was as innocent as an unborn babe of any responsibility for this precious scandal—that I'd never so much as heard it breathed till she told me of it: but it wasn't any good, sir; she would have it that I was the originator!"