“No, not with P. M. attached. Might as well take lodgings in Wormwood Scrubs—quite as much liberty. But, anyhow, Cæsar, you see now what you have got to do.”
“Get you apartments in Wormwood Scrubs?”
“No. Do be serious. Give me a laboratory here and some experimental ground. Do, there’s a dear good Cæsar.” In reminiscence of old days he pretended to rub his head against Cæsar’s arm.
“Ah, you invented Peter’s offer to wheedle me into this. I suppose.” 267
“Exactly. Seriously, Cæsar, if you would, it would be excellent. I’ve been thinking it out, I could work here safely. No one to crib my ideas. But I must have trial ground.”
“That’s Nevil’s affair.”
“Well, I undertake to manage Nevil if you are afraid,” said Christopher, with an air of desperate resolve.
“I thought you didn’t like Marden,” persisted Cæsar, fighting in an unreasoning way, against his own desires, “and this engaged couple will wander round and get in the way.”
He looked Christopher straight in the face with scrutinising eyes, but he never flinched.
“I’ll put up a notice, ‘Trespassers will be blown up.’”