"Yes," said the chap. I didn't like the way he said it, though; it sounded so kind of certain. All the others had been a bit nervous when dad got to that point.
"Very well," dad answered. "We'll call it settled. As—er—as a—sidelight on Raymond's code of honor, Mr. Twigg—you said Twigg?—I'll mention that for the last few minutes he has been listening to our conversation from behind the hall door. You may come out now, Raymond."
I went out, grinning. It was all well enough for dad to talk about "the last few minutes," but I was sure he hadn't known I was there until I kicked the door after the chap said "yes" like that. The chap got out of his chair and looked at me as though they hadn't been talking about me for half an hour.
"Raymond, this is Mr. John Twigg, your new tutor," said dad.
"Thought it was about time for another," I said. Twigg held out his hand, and so I shook with him. He shook different from the others; sort of as though he had bones and things inside his fingers instead of cotton wool.
"Glad to see you," he said. "Hope we'll get on together."
"Oh, I'll get on," said I; "but I don't know about you."
"That'll do, Raymond," said dad angrily. "I don't expect you to act like a gentleman; but you might at least be less of a cad."
"I ain't a cad!" I muttered.
"What else are you when you listen behind doors to things you're not expected to hear? When you talk like a gutter snipe and act—"