"You've got a great bunch of junk," said Le Baron, finishing his inspection.
"Yes, it's quite a mixture."
Le Baron, refusing a seat, stood before the fireplace, a pocket knife juggling in his hands, seeking an opening.
"Here, I'll have a cigarette," he said finally, with a frown.
Reynolds, more business-like, broke out:
"Dink, we've dropped in to have a little straight talk with you."
"All right."
He felt a premonition of what was coming, and the short note of authority in Reynolds's voice seemed to stiffen everything inside of him.
"We've dropped a few hints to you," continued Reynolds, in his staccato manner, "and you haven't chosen to understand them. Now we're going to put it right to you."