“Nevil has a boy of his own, hasn’t he?” 99
“Don’t be a fool if you can help it, Peter. Other people have golden spoons besides the gilded Aston family.”
Peter shrugged his shoulders. “It’s no business of mine, of course, but the boy looks sharp. Pity to spoil him. Ha, Ha. I don’t spoil mine.”
He got up yawning and sauntered over to the fireplace and so did not see Aymer’s rigid face go white and then red.
“I’ve got a boy—I think it’s a boy—somewhere. Daresay you’ve forgotten. You weren’t very sociable, poor old chap, when it happened. About a year after your accident. He’s about somewhere or other. Oh, I back my own theories! I don’t suppose he’s a genius, so the rough-and-tumble school for him.”
“You know the school?”
“I can put my hand on him when I want to—that’s not yet. The world can educate him till I’m ready to step in.”
“If he’ll have you.”
Peter chuckled. “He won’t be a fool—even if he’s not a genius. Well, you think of my proposition, I’ll go halves.”
“How you have disappointed me, Peter. I thought you called from a disinterested desire to see me after all these years.”