"Mr. Spencer, you--you have no right to talk to me like this. You have had my letter----"
"Your letter? what letter?"
"The one I sent you yesterday; it ought to have been delivered this morning."
"It wasn't; I've had no letter of yours which you sent me yesterday; where did you send it? to what address?"
"I addressed it to you at Holtye."
"Then that's why I've not had it; possibly I never shall have it. You rushed off in such a flurry, before I could speak a word to you, that I had no chance to tell you that I wasn't staying at Holtye."
"Not staying at Holtye? then where are you staying?"
"At the 'Unicorn,' I've taken a room there; it's only another illustration of the truth of what I've so often told you, the more haste the worse speed. I can see now that you'd go tearing off if I'd let you; but I won't. I want to explain."
"I--I'd rather you explained through the post."
"Then I wouldn't; and I'm not going to. When people wish to understand each other in matters of real importance I hold that they'd better do so face to face; I've no faith in pen and ink; microbes breed in ink-bottles, which breed all sorts of misconceptions. Now I can see that you're rushing at your fences again. You're taking it for granted that I wish to speak to you on one subject, when I principally wish to speak to you about your father. I want to tell you something about him which you ought to know."