“Why not ‘Marie’ to me, my haughty solicitor?”
“By all means,” said Fuller readily, “since I keep nothing from you. But I have fallen so much into the habit of speaking stiffly about Marie to outsiders, so as to prevent old Sorley from interfering, that I forget how implicitly I can trust you.”
“I sha’n’t say a word about your wooing to the man, if that’s what you mean,” growled Dick, “but if you talk of ‘Miss Inderwick’ I shall expect you to call me ‘Mr. Latimer.’”
“Oh, hang your nonsense. Let us get to business.”
“How can we when you talk all round the shop?” protested Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Well, go on. You hinted to me that you spoke to Marie about the peacock.”
“I did, but not to Mr. Sorley.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t trust him.”
“Why not?” inquired Latimer once more and very stolidly.
“Now you ask me a question which is not easy to answer,” said Alan, looking meditatively into the fire. “I can give no reason for my mistrust since, so far as I know, Sorley is straight enough on the whole.”