"Sink me! You didn't see much of him."
"Didn't need to. 'E's the kind o' jumped-up snotty who torks to men beneath 'im as if they was dawgs. When a real toff calls me 'Jackson' I s'y 'Yes, Sir'; but when that blighter did the sime thing I wanted to bung 'im one in the jawr."
"Well, I'm dashed!" breathed Popple, surveying his friend with manifest approval. "Now, who'd ha thought he'd stirred you up in that way? Between you an' me, Harry, I'm not too fond of him meself. I suspicioned that Mrs. Carmac meant to fire him last week; but I was mistaken. Anyhow, 'Live an' let live' is my policy. So long as he doesn't interfere with me, I'll leave him alone."
"Sime 'ere," agreed Jackson.
Mrs. Carmac passed a restless afternoon. Twice she summoned her maid, Celeste, who had come from Paris on receipt of a telegram, meaning to send that discreet tirewoman for Yvonne, yet twice changed her mind.
As the hour fixed by Bennett drew near, she felt more reconciled to Yvonne's prolonged absence. She was beginning to realize the perplexities and embarrassments to which her daughter was being subjected daily.
The lawyer was first to arrive. "I am glad of the opportunity of having a word with you in private," he said. "Of course you are acquainted with the disposition your husband made of his estate; but Rupert Fosdyke may be disagreeably surprised. If he protests, do not be drawn into argument. Please leave matters in my hands."
"Am I to say nothing at all?" she demanded.
"Nothing controversial. If he blusters, and asks questions, refer him to me."