"There is a gentleman here going to the Lion" he said with a rather embarrassed air; "I told him your fly was engaged, sir; but he said perhaps you would let him share it with you."
Kelson looked black. "I like the way some people have of taking things for granted. Cheek, I call it. He had better wait or walk."
"The gentleman said he was in a hurry, sir," the porter observed apologetically.
"No reason why he should squash us up in the fly," Kelson returned. "I'll have a word with the gentleman. Where is he?"
"I think he is in the fly, sir."
"The devil he is! We'll have him out, Hugh. Infernally cool." And he strode off towards the waiting fly.
"Better see what sort of chap he is before you go for him, Harry," Gifford said deprecatingly as he followed. He knew his masterful friend's quick temper, and anticipated a row.
"If you don't mind, this is my fly, sir," Kelson was saying as Gifford reached him.
"The porter told me it was the Golden Lion conveyance," a strong, deeply modulated voice replied from the fly.
"And I think he told you it was engaged," Kelson rejoined bluffly.