“What do you think of a man of my experience settling down in a place like this to raise apples?” he asked. “Sometimes I think I’m several kinds of a fool for doing it.”
Mr. Todd spat thoughtfully over the rail.
“That depends,” he said tentatively, but with a keen look at the other.
David flicked the ash off his cigarette, then flung it impatiently away and lighted a fresh one.
“Yes, of course,” he said; “but take it anyway you like, is the game worth the candle? Once I’m tied up here, I suppose I’ll have to stand by the rest of my life. Do I want to do it? Would you want to do it? Honest now.”
The small spare gentleman who had introduced himself to Barford society under the name of Albert Todd smiled thoughtfully.
“Well, it strikes me as a bit slow for my taste. What do you say to a game of cards to pass away the time?”
David shook his head.
“I don’t take much to cards,” he said. “The other chap generally wins, and I like to be on the winning side.”
He tramped up and down the piazza a few times; impatiently kicking at the railings as he paused to turn.