‘They are his chambers, Mr Osborne,’ I replied, recovering myself with an effort, and looking him in the face.
‘My son had not informed me that he shared them with another.’
‘We are very old friends, Mr Osborne.’
He made no answer, but stood regarding me fixedly.
‘You do not remember me, sir,’ I said. ‘I am Wilfrid Cumbermede.’
‘I have cause to remember you.’
‘Will you not sit down, sir? Charley will be home in less than an hour—I quite expect.’
Again he turned his back as if about to leave me.
‘If my presence is disagreeable to you,’ I said, annoyed at his rudeness, ‘I will go.’
‘As you please,’ he answered.