"Then we'll get down to business. I'll tell you what I want done, and if you are willing you can do it; if you are not willing you can leave it—and go to the devil! Sit down."
Ashe sat down. He resented the little man's tone, but this was not the moment for saying so. His companion scrutinized him narrowly.
"So far as appearance goes," he said, "you are what I want." Ashe felt inclined to bow. "Whoever takes on this job has got to act as my valet, and you look like a valet." Ashe felt less inclined to bow.
"You're tall and thin and ordinary-looking. Yes; so far as appearance goes, you fill the bill."
It seemed to Ashe that it was time to correct an impression the little man appeared to have formed.
"I am afraid," he said, "if all you want is a valet, you will have to look elsewhere. I got the idea from your advertisement that something rather more exciting was in the air. I can recommend you to several good employment agencies if you wish." He rose. "Good-morning!" he said.
He would have liked to fling the massive pewter inkwell at this little creature who had so keenly disappointed him.
"Sit down!" snapped the other.
Ashe resumed his seat. The hope of adventure dies hard on a Spring morning when one is twenty-six, and he had the feeling that there was more to come.
"Don't be a damned fool!" said the little man. "Of course I'm not asking you to be a valet and nothing else."