"Why is there no fly here?"
"Because Sam Harris wouldn't let his come."
"Why not? I ordered it."
"You ordered it! Mr. Harris said that he wasn't going to have the likes of you sitting in a fly of his--that's why. So he sent this cart instead. If this cart isn't good enough, I'll take it back at once. I'll take it back anyhow if there's much more talking."
The lady and her solicitor exchanged glances. While they were apparently seeking for words the driver volunteered another remark, in keeping with those which had gone before.
"There's another thing. I'm to be paid before I started; Mr. Harris said I was."
"You'll be paid when you reach Pitmuir."
"Shall I? Then I'll say good-night."
The man gathered up his reins as if about to depart.
"Stop! What are you doing? You appear to be a pleasant character."