“We’re just coming to the view,” said Mr. Brumley. “Just coming to the view.”
“Practically got to rebuild the house,” said Sir Isaac.
“There!” said Mr. Brumley, and waved an arm widely.
Sir Isaac regarded the prospect with a dissatisfied face. His pallor had given place to a shiny, flushed appearance, his nose, his ears, and his cheeks were pink. He blew his face out, and seemed to be studying the landscape for defects. “This might be built over at any time,” he complained.
Mr. Brumley was reassuring.
For a brief interval Sir Isaac’s eyes explored the countryside vaguely, then his expression seemed to concentrate and run together to a point. “H’m,” he said.
“That board,” he remarked, “quite wrong there.”
“Well!” said Mr. Brumley, too surprised for coherent speech.
“Quite,” said Sir Isaac Harman. “Don’t you see what’s the matter?”
Mr. Brumley refrained from an eloquent response.