Whatever faults might be laid to Mr. Lott's door, he at least, I concluded, possesssed the virtue of self-control.
“Anybody been here?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Kelver—Mr. Paul Kelver.”
“Kelver, Kelver. Who's Kelver?”
“Know what he is—a fool.”
“What do you mean?”
“He's come after the place.”
“Is he there?”