"The car is at the door, sir."
"The car?—ah yes, to be sure!—Baxter."
"Sir?"
"What should you say if I told you—" Bellew paused to strike a match, broke it, tried another, broke that, and finally put his pipe back into his pocket, very conscious the while of Baxter's steady, though perfectly respectful regard.
"Baxter," said he again.
"Sir?" said Baxter.
"What should you say if I told you that I was in love—at last,
Baxter!—Head over ears—hopelessly—irretrievably?"
"Say, sir?—why I should say,—indeed, sir?"
"What should you say," pursued Bellew, staring thoughtfully down at the rug under his feet, "if I told you that I am so very much, in love that I am positively afraid to—tell her so?"
"I should say—very remarkable, sir!"