“Heart-breaking!” said Van Heldre. “It is atrocious. There, I will not speak angrily, Crampton.”
“No, sir. You must not; and now I’m going, sir. You’ve talked twice as much as is good for you.”
“Sit down,” said Van Heldre sternly.
Crampton, who had moved towards the door, slowly resumed his place.
“I am not too weak to talk about this terrible accusation. I am not going to say much now, only to ask you to throw aside all this prejudice and to look upon the mishap as an unfortunate occurrence. Come, Crampton, be a little broader. Don’t be so ready to suspect the first person you dislike, and then to keep obstinately to your opinion.”
“Better not talk any more,” said Crampton, shortly.
“I must talk,” said Van Heldre, more sternly. “Mind this, Crampton, you are wrong.”
The care, want of rest, and anxiety had produced a state of acidity in the old clerk’s organisation which had made him exceptionally irritable.
“Wrong, eh?” he said sharply.
“Yes; and I must call upon you to be careful to keep these fancies to yourself.”