Denis was sitting in his shirt-sleeves, his collar off and neckband loosened, when Ebenezer Brown entered.
"Sit down, Mr. Brown. I will attend to you in five minutes. We are so confoundedly busy that I must put this through at once."
Ebenezer Brown mumbled something inarticulate and sat down, watching the pile of papers on the desk in front of the man he hated. After a few minutes Denis Quirk swung round on the office stool to face him.
"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked. "An advertisement or an obituary notice of 'The Observer?'"
Ebenezer Brown was rendered speechless with indignation for the moment.
"I didn't come here to be insulted," he growled.
"Then why did you come? Haven't you been throwing insults at me from the columns of your rag these six weeks past? A man doesn't walk into the lion's den to have his hand licked by the lion."
"And how have you treated me?" cried Ebenezer Brown. "First you stole my reporter's copy, then you stole my reporter."
"Stole, sir!" Denis Quirk rang his bell, and Desmond O'Connor entered. "Kindly take down this gentleman's words, Desmond. Now, Mr. Brown, please repeat your statement."