"Did you feel in any way inspired from without—any visions or voices, so to speak, any manifestations or appearances—anything of that kind?"
Mr. Walkingshaw looked a little puzzled.
"The voices of romance and love, and that sort of thing, I certainly heard."
"Quite so, quite so, Mr. Walkingshaw. You heard them, did you? Well, it's not every one who hears these things."
He smiled pleasantly, and Mr. Walkingshaw became confirmed in his opinion that this was quite one of the most agreeable men he had met for a long time.
"May I ask whether you propose to take any more steps to put this poor world of ours to rights?" inquired Mr. Brown.
"He is taking control of the business again," said Andrew.
"Again?" retorted Heriot. "When did I ever lose control of the business, I'd like to know? I've had my holiday, and now I'm going to make things hum in the office."
"You are going to make them hum?" asked Mr. Brown. "Do you mean you are going to override your partner's decisions, and so on?"
"My dear Mr. Brown, if I waited for his decisions, I'd be kicking up my heels in the office half the day. Metaphorically speaking, my son is somewhat like a man who fills his bath from a teacup instead of turning on the tap. I don't override his decisions, I simply anticipate them."