Radmore felt amused, interested, and, yes, a little touched. Evidently his distaste for Piper had not been reciprocal.
"I suppose to start dog-breeding requires a good bit of money," he said.
"Well, sir, it's this way. Fancy dogs fetch a good bit more money than they did. Such a lot o' breeding stopped during the War. But what with one thing and another, and prices 'aving gone up so, Piper says 'twould be no good going in for such a thing under a matter of £500. But we've got good hopes of getting the money," said the woman composedly.
"Have you indeed?"
Then he felt rather ashamed of the little game he was playing with this no doubt excellent woman.
"Look here, Mrs. Piper," he exclaimed, "perhaps I ought to tell you frankly that my name is Radmore. I no longer call myself 'Major Radmore.' My address for the present is Old Place, Beechfield. But Beechfield alone would find me, and I hope your husband will let me know if I can do anything for him."
"There now! Could one ever hope for such a thing coming to pass as my meeting you, sir, accidental like?"
Mrs. Piper was genuinely moved and excited. She felt that Providence, in whom she only believed when she was in trouble, had done her a good turn. For a moment or two she remained silent, thinking intently, wondering whether she dared take advantage of this extraordinary chance—a chance that might never occur again.
"I take it, sir," she said at last, "that you are a friend of Mrs. Crofton's?"
"Of course I am well acquainted with the lady you name." There came a tone of reserve, instantly detected by the woman's quick ear and quicker mind, into the speaker's voice. "And I had a great regard for your husband's late employer, Colonel Crofton," he added.