“But” I said, looking down at him, perplexed.
“It’s abscondin’. They’ll have a warrant.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“It’s all up, George—all up and over.
“And I thought I’d live in that place, George and die a lord! It’s a great place, reely, an imperial—if anyone has the sense to buy it and finish it. That terrace—”
I stood thinking him over.
“Look here!” I said. “What’s that about—a warrant? Are you sure they’ll get a warrant? I’m sorry uncle; but what have you done?”
“Haven’t I told you?”
“Yes, but they won’t do very much to you for that. They’ll only bring you up for the rest of your examination.”
He remained silent for a time. At last he spoke—speaking with difficulty.