“Think twice, Mr. Stirling.”
“If you would rather, I will not give you my answer till to-morrow morning?”
“I would,” said Maguire rising, “Try and make it favorable. It’s a great chance to do good for yourself and for your side. Good-night.”
Peter closed his door, and looked about for a bit of blank wall. But on second thought he sat down on his window-sill, and, filling his pipe, tried to draw conclusions as well as smoke from it.
“I wonder,” he pondered to himself, “how much of that was Maguire, and how much Porter? Ought I, for the sake of doing my best for my ward, to have let him go on? Has an agent any right to refuse what will help is client, even if it comes by setting pitfalls?”
Rap, rap, rap.
“Come in,” called Peter, forgetting he had turned down his light.
The door opened and Mr. Costell came in. “Having a quiet smoke?” he asked.
“Yes. I haven’t a cigar to offer you. Can you join me in a pipe?”
“I haven’t come to that yet. Suppose you try one of my cigars.” Costell sat down on the window-ledge by Peter.