“What about Mr. Valerius, now he's come home?”
“Val Dartie? With that father?”
“We-ell,” murmured Gradman, “he's been dead seven years—the Statute runs against him.”
“No,” said Soames. “I don't like the connection.” He rose. Gradman said suddenly:
“If they were makin' a levy on capital, they could come on the trustees, sir. So there you'd be just the same. I'd think it over, if I were you.”
“That's true,” said Soames. “I will. What have you done about that dilapidation notice in Vere Street?”
“I 'aven't served it yet. The party's very old. She won't want to go out at her age.”
“I don't know. This spirit of unrest touches every one.”
“Still, I'm lookin' at things broadly, sir. She's eighty-one.”
“Better serve it,” said Soames, “and see what she says. Oh! and Mr. Timothy? Is everything in order in case of—”