George turned in a moment. He had reason to remember the voice.
‘Why, Duck,’ he exclaimed, ‘what the dickens are you doing here?’
‘Ahem—Squire; to tell you the truth I’m come to see you.’
‘See me!’
‘Yes. I’m afraid our connection wasn’t very pleasant, but—ahem—let bygones be bygones—and I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind—ahem—taking my card, and if you want anything done in my line——’
George took the proffered card.
It announced that Mr. Jabez Duck had embarked in business on his own account as a private inquiry agent.
George stared at the card, wondering which to do—to admire the man’s cool impudence or to kick him.
‘You see, sir,’ said Mr. Duck, giving his shiny head another mop, ‘things are altered with me now. When I had the misfortune to have to do business with you I had an encumbrance, sir, and I couldn’t afford to go about as an inquiry agent on his own account ought to. Mrs. Duck wouldn’t hear of it. But now, sir, Mrs. Duck is no more, and I’m going to try business on my own hook altogether.’
‘Oh, Mrs. Duck’s dead, is she?’ said George, for the sake of saying something.