He pulled out half a dozen thin books, selected one, and turned over the pages. The Squire watched him with exasperation.
“What dawdling ways!”
“Here we are, Sir Geoffrey. Five and twenty years ago, when Master Lionel was short-coated.”
“Get forrard, you skirter!”
Fishpingle put on his spectacles, and read aloud: “‘Heated argument with the Squire. He and my lady insisted upon keeping our dairy cows. I floored him with the milk returns——’”
“Floored me?”
Fishpingle continued placidly:
“‘—and enjoyed a small triumph. The cows are to be fattened for the butcher, and the dairy will show a profit instead of a loss.’”
He replaced the diary and removed his spectacles. The Squire muttered protest:
“As usual, Ben, you wander from the point, you shifty old fox. Why jaw about cows? Now—what have you against Lady Margot?”