"And I should like to get rid of him."
Our visitor put his bread-and-butter down on the plate, and stared at Mr. Chandos, as if questioning whether he might be in jest or earnest.
"What is your objection to him, sir?" he asked, after a pause.
"I cannot state any objection in detail. I have seen the man, and I don't like him. How can he be got rid of, Dexter?"
"He cannot be got rid of at all, sir, until the lease is out—three years—unless he chooses to quit of his own accord. There's a clause in the lease that he can leave at the end of any twelvemonth by giving proper notice."
"That's his side—as regards the agreement. What is mine?"
"You have no power to dismiss him until the three years are up."
"How came you to draw up a one-sided deed, such as that?"
"Haines said his client wished to have the option of quitting at the end of any year, though he would probably continue for the three. In point of fact, Mr. Edwin Barley is a yearly tenant; but he wished to have the power in his own hands of remaining the three years. I did speak to you, Mr. Chandos, and you made no objection."
Mr. Chandos sat, twirling the watch-key and beautiful transparent seal that drooped from his gold chain. It was self-evident to him that what might appear to be just terms for any other man on the face of the earth who had offered himself as tenant, looked anything but just now that the tenant proved to be Mr. Edwin Barley.