'You haven't changed. Those developments haven't taken place in your character which I've announced. It's a pity; so it is.'
'What do you mean?'
'It's to tell you what I mean that I've brought you here.'
Mr. Merrett told. As first one spoke, then the other, the same peculiarity was noticeable in their voices as in their persons. The unlikeness, with the likeness. The tone was the same; so that frequently any one, standing outside the door, for instance, would not have been able to say which of the twain was speaking. But Merrett spoke with an odd clearness, looking the person whom he addressed straight in the face; he had a trick of making his words convey their full natural meaning and more. The peer's utterance, on the other hand, was apt to be both rapid and indistinct; his glance continually wandered; one suspected, as one listened, that words coming from his mouth were both meaningless and valueless.
'And do you mean to tell me that you've been playing at being Marquis of Twickenham in my place?'
'I do. It hasn't been much of a game, but, as Marquis, I'm worth about a hundred and fifty thousand of you. That's the cold truth.'
'You don't lack assurance.'
'I do not. All I ask is to agree with you.'
'And you have the--the impudence to tell me that you've been making free with my money?'
'Free's the word. And the amount's been named. It might have been larger. But I'm a modest man. It will serve.'