“No, I don’t know,” said the lawyer snappishly. “How should I know?”
“Of course not,” said the professor smiling. “The fact is, I’ve been so much—among books—lately—that—these are fine. Picked them up at a little shop near the Strand. Buttknow’s Byzantine Empire.”
He picked up the two musty old volumes, and opened them upon the table, as a blast rang out.
The professor started and stared, his dreamy eyes opening wider, but seeing that it was only the lawyer blowing his nose, he smiled and turned over a few leaves.
“A good deal damaged; but such a book is very rare, sir.”
“My dear sir, I asked you to come here to talk business,” said the lawyer, tapping the table with his snuff-box, “not books.”
“True. I beg your pardon,” said the professor. “I was in town making the final preparations for my departure to the Levant, and I did not receive the telegram till this morning. That made me so late.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the lawyer, and he took some more snuff.
“And how is Lawrence this morning?” said the professor in his calm, mild way. “I hope better, Mrs Dunn.”
“Bless the man! No. He is worse,” cried Mrs Dunn shortly.