Then trouble for two began.
As Williams ended, I looked at him with indignation.
"As far as I can see," I said, "you are acting as attorney for the defense. That's a fine story to tell a father of two attractive daughters. You needn't repeat it to them."
"But it happened, old man——"
"Don't call me 'old man,' either. I'll explain to you why." And I did, peevishly.
After that I saw less of Williams, from choice. He has a literary way with him in telling a story—and I didn't wish Alida and Dulcima to sympathize with young Harroll and that little ninny, Catharine Delancy. So I kept clear of Williams until we arrived in Paris.