"Well?" he repeated, lifting grave interrogative eyebrows. He had seated himself; but Keith remained standing, a sign with him of extreme perturbation.
"I thought I could explain things better if I saw you," he began.
"Quite so; quite so. I hope you haven't come to tell me there's been any 'itch."
"Well, I told you as much when I wrote."
"I understood you advised me to withdraw, because you thought Pilkington wanted a big price."
"I didn't know what he wanted; I knew what we ought to give."
"That was settled by looking in the register. You don't mean to say he's going to back out of it?"
Keith was so preoccupied that he failed to see the drift of his father's questioning. "You see," he continued, following his own thoughts, "it's not as if we had only ourselves to consider. There's Miss Harden."
"Ah, yes, Pilkington did make some mention of a young lady."
"She was good enough to say she'd rather we bought the library than anybody. I think we're bound to justify her confidence."