“About that fellow Âppott?” he said.
Mr Burden did not answer.
“That fellow Âppott,” Mr Barnett’s big head wagged slowly in disapproval, “he is obstinate—but he is O.K. Alright. Aha? Not so?” Mr Barnett groped with his right hand as though to lay it upon Mr Burden’s knee; but, finding in the way the arm of the deep chair on which he sat, he patted that affectionately instead, and closed his eyes again, and was silent.
The younger and more active, though lesser, mind of Cosmo, came to the aid of Mr Barnett, whom fatigue, coupled with his remaining difficulties in the English tongue, had led into some vagueness of expression. Cosmo was the better fitted to speak, from the fact that Mr Barnett, earlier in the evening, when his mood had been for some reason more sprightly, had fully explained how and why Mr Abbott was necessary to the M’Korio.
“Father,” said Cosmo, rapidly, “you know how very few men there are in London who know one subject; Mr Abbott really does know the Delta. That is the whole point. But I am not sure that Mr Barnett quite understands....”
MR BARNETT THOROUGHLY AT HOME
Mr Barnett smiled and grunted; he was following, but indistinctly.
“Of course you know the difficulty, and I suppose I know it too. It all comes from what is finest in his nature; but the suspicion is intolerable, father. And that is another reason why he ought to come in.”
After this lucid sequence of ideas, Cosmo, who was standing with his hand on the table looking anxiously at his father across the lamplight, said, with real earnestness, “We must get him to come in.”