“It is unusual, it certainly is unusual,” Peter was bound to admit.
“I distrust the man,” said Clodd. “He’s not our class. What is he doing here?”
“I will ask him, Clodd; I will ask him straight out.”
“And believe whatever he tells you.”
“No, I shan’t.”
“Then what’s the good of asking him?”
“Well, what am I to do?” demanded the bewildered Peter.
“Get rid of him,” suggested Clodd.
“Get rid of him?”
“Get him away! Don’t have him in and out of the office all day long-looking at her with those collie-dog eyes of his, arguing art and poetry with her in that cushat-dove voice of his. Get him clean away—if it isn’t too late already.”