"Some hustler, ain't you?"
"I am," said Philip—"this trip! Get busy!"
CHAPTER XXIX
THE FIRST EPISTLE OF THEOPHILUS
"Pretty hot stuff this port of yours, old son—what?"
"Take some more," grunted Philip.
"Thank you. That was the situation I was endeavouring to lead up to," said Timothy, and helped himself.
"It's a blessing to see your honest but homely features once again," he continued, lifting his glass, "especially when you signalise your return by replenishing the wine-cellar. Chin-chin, old thing!"
Philip, sitting on one chair with his feet on another and smoking a briar pipe, grunted again. Timothy rose, and lit a cigarette with a live coal from the fire. (Matches were never a conspicuous feature of a bachelor establishment, however well regulated.) As he did so, his eye was caught by a pair of tall and hideous vases,—of the kind which is usually given away at coöperative stores to customers who have been rash enough to accumulate a certain number of coupons,—standing one at each end of the mantelpiece.