“Can’t afford it,” said Chris bluntly.
Wimble uttered a little laugh that suggested disbelief.
“They do say, sir, as this Mr Glyddyr is making up to Miss Gartram, sir.”
Chris set his teeth hard. He could not jump up and run out of the place with his hair half cut.
“And that Mr Gartram is set upon it, sir. Well, it’s a fine opening for any young man, I’m sure. Mr Gartram must have a deal of money up yonder. I often wonder he has never been robbed—that’s it, sir. The other side, please: thank you. Stone walls and bolts and bars are all very well, but, as I said to Doctor Asher when I was cutting him the other day—If a man wants to commit a robbery, stone walls and iron bars is no use. ‘No, sir,’ I says, ‘there’s sure to be times when doors is open and iron bars undone, and those are the times that a thief and a robber would choose.’”
“Humph!” ejaculated Chris. “So you think there are times when a man might easily rob Mr Gartram?”
“I do, sir, indeed; and if you’ll believe me there, I wouldn’t have his money and live as he does for anything.”
“Ah, well, I won’t believe you,” said Chris drily.
“But you may, sir. Yes, sir, it isn’t safe to live with so much money in your house.”
“Well, I’ll tell Mr Gartram what you say.”