“Well,” he said, “now that you’ve had time to look me over, how d’ you like me? Think I’ll do—eh?”
“No,” Jarvis said quietly, almost sadly. “I’m afraid not. But I don’t intend to trust my own judgment—entirely.”
He sighed deeply and looked down, as if there was nothing more to be seen or said.
David straightened himself in his chair with a jerk.
“See here,” he said truculently. “I was joking, you know; you were staring at me as if you’d never seen a human being before. But now I’d like you to answer me straight. What d’you mean by saying I ‘won’t do’? What business is it of yours what I——”
He choked a little with the rage that was consuming him.
“Why, confound your impudence!” he cried, his face flaming with anger.
“I owe you an apology, sir,” said Jarvis, with stately composure. “I ought not to have spoken as I did. But there is much at stake.”
“Not for you,” said David insolently.