"Alan dear, you oughtn't to talk to father like that."
This mild reproof was endorsed by White in terms which finally drove Alan from the table, declaring that he would starve before he ate another morsel under the parental roof.
When he had slammed his way out of the room, Janet, in whom tact was not a predominant feature, said that she didn't know why it was, but she had never liked Samuel Jones.
"Well, you're not asked to like him," snapped White. "You needn't think he's coming for the pleasure of seeing you, because he's not. In fact, the scarcer you make yourself the better."
"Oh dear, that means you're going to talk business! I do wish you wouldn't, father: I'm sure he's not a good man."
"Never you mind what we're going to talk! And if I catch you blabbing all around the countryside any dam'-fool rubbish about Jones and Carter, you'll be sorry!"
"Have you paid Mr. Carter the money you owe him?" asked Janet. "I know you don't like me to remind you, but it does worry me so."
"Then it needn't worry you. Carter and I understand one another perfectly."
"But I thought he was so cross about it? I'm sure the last time he came over here he was simply horrid, and I do so hate you to be beholden to him."
"Oh, shut up!" said White. "You talk like someone out of a cheap novel! What the devil do you suppose Wally's likely to do about it, even supposing he is annoyed?"