Dr. Stalling had contrived to ask his question in about the most idiotic manner possible. He said, “Can you tell me where I’m going?”
“How the devil should I know where you’re going, gosling?” retorted Abel contemptuously.
Dr. Stalling was so enraged that he could not speak for a moment or two and in that moment Abel had disappeared in the woods. Dr. Stalling had eventually found his way home, but he had never hankered to encounter Abel Gay again.
Nevertheless he came now to do his duty. Valancy greeted him with a sinking heart. She had to own to herself that she was terribly afraid of Dr. Stalling still. She had a miserable conviction that if he shook his long, bony finger at her and told her to go home, she dared not disobey.
“Mr. Gay,” said Dr. Stalling politely and condescendingly, “may I see Miss Stirling alone for a few minutes?”
Roaring Abel was a little drunk—just drunk enough to be excessively polite and very cunning. He had been on the point of going away when Dr. Stalling arrived, but now he sat down in a corner of the parlour and folded his arms.
“No, no, mister,” he said solemnly. “That wouldn’t do—wouldn’t do at all. I’ve got the reputation of my household to keep up. I’ve got to chaperone this young lady. Can’t have any sparkin’ going on here behind my back.”
Outraged Dr. Stalling looked so terrible that Valancy wondered how Abel could endure his aspect. But Abel was not worried at all.
“D’ye know anything about it, anyway?” he asked genially.
“About what?”