"It is," replied Alexander. There is surely no need for much growling, thought he.
Conrad, snorting violently, glanced round the room like one of those fairy-tale dragons that scents human flesh, and then roared—
"Let the master be sent for!"
"He is not at home."
Conrad glanced at Livius, murmuring, "Didn't I say so?" Whereupon he planted one fist on the table, flung the other behind his back, and thrusting forward his chest, regarded the youth with a savage stare.
"Then where is the master?"
"He did not so far honour me with his confidence as to tell me," replied Alexander, who had sufficient sang-froid to assume an expression of utter indifference.
"'Tis well," said Conrad, and he drew from an inner pocket a sealed letter. "What's your name, young man?"
Alexander began looking at his interlocutor with surprise and annoyance.