His rather metallic voice did not altogether accord with the radiancy of his appearance. One expected flute-like notes to come from him. His actual tones were sharp and shrill.
"I am; considering that last time I had the privilege of your conversation you were good enough to say I was a thief."
The dapper little man stood before the empty stove picking his beautiful white teeth with his metal pencil-case.
"Well, Ash, business is business, and no man likes to be robbed, you know."
"Is that what you have come to tell me? Because, if so, you can impart the information equally well while I am pitching you through the window."
The little man did not seem at all annoyed. He did not even seem amused. He appeared to be quite accustomed to that sort of speech. He seemed to take it for granted, at any rate.
"Well, no--quite the other way. Fact is, I'm looking for a wife."
"A what?"
"A wife."
"The deuce you are! And do you think I've a selection on view here?"