"I hope, Mr. Lightnut, sir, you'll try to pardon me, sir, but I—Well, indeed, sir, the mistake wasn't mine; it was the dealer's fault, you know, sir."
"Oh!"
I stared, polished my glass and nodded. I even chirped up a smile, but I didn't utter a word. Dash it, what was there to say? But you mustn't let them know that, you know. So I just waited, and he squirmed a little and went on:
"It was too late after he told me about the mistake; and I was—well, I was afraid to mention it to you, sir."
"Mistake! What mistake?"
He gulped; dashed if I didn't think he was going to choke.
"I—I'm sure, sir, I wouldn't have had such a thing happen for—"
I could stand it no longer.
"Oh, I say! I haven't any idea what you're talking about!"
Jenkins cleared his throat with an effort, his eyes rolling at me apologetically. When he spoke there was a tremble in his utterance, and it was rather husky: