"Damn your impertinence. What do you mean by that?" roared Bellshaw.
A tap at the door. A waiter put in his head.
"Did you call, sir?"
"No—get out," foamed the angry man.
Glen smiled exasperatingly.
"What do you mean by it?" asked Bellshaw again.
"It's a silly useless letter, because you will not scratch Barellan," answered Glen.
Bellshaw simmered down. Leigh had come to make terms; they must be liberal.
"Useless because you are going to make a proposal," said Bellshaw.
"I have a proposal to make?"