"What of?"
"I think he's delaying us on purpose. He's a nice chap, but it's his business to boost this town, and he's artful. He doesn't want us to see the street fair. That's why he's stalling like this!"
Now, however, the secretary returned, followed by a waiter bearing soup.
The soup was fine, but it was succeeded by another long interval, during which the secretary said some very, very beautiful things about the charm of Montgomery life. However, it was clear to me that my companion was not interested. After he had looked at his watch several times, and drummed a long tattoo upon the table, he arose, declaring:
"I can't wait another minute."
"Sit down, my dear fellow," said the secretary in his most genial tone. "I am having some special southern dishes prepared for you."
"You're very kind," said my companion, "but I must get to work. It's half-past four now; we are leaving in a few hours. It will take me an hour to make my sketches, and the light will be failing pretty soon."
"What are you going to sketch?" It seemed to me that there was suppressed emotion in the secretary's voice as he asked the question.
"Why, the street fair."
"Surely, you're not going to draw it?"