"I'll come if I like," said H. Robinson, over his expansive shoulder, and with the same manner in which he might have thrown a bone to an impudent dog.
Standing with his foot on the floor of the French Cross hall, Captain White easily imagined himself a champion for the ladies of the house. It was his duty to frighten away this intruder who had been leading the younger and more foolish of the ladies into by and forbidden paths of unlawful curiosity.
"Better give up this little affair," he said, persuasively.
The detective easily lost his temper. However, he controlled himself, and set his foot on the door-sill.
Captain White gave him a playful tap on the shoulder. "Don't come again. As a friend I advise you."
The detective stopped. Short as was his time, and prejudicial as it might be to his interests, he would love to punish this little whipper-snapper of a man.
"Get out," he said, unexpectedly thrusting forth an elbow in close proximity to Captain White.
"Oh!" responded the latter, and one of his elbows flew out with such directness of aim that it sought the detective's hidden ribs with the precision of a dagger.
H. Robinson choked and sputtered with rage, yet in the midst of it remembered that it would be madness for him to indulge in an altercation, and clutching his fat hands he sidled down the steps, his good genius telling him not to present the broad target of his back to the teasing companion crowding against him.
"That was a low thing for me to do," said Captain White, tauntingly.