"I cried off."
A ray of light struggled fitfully through the clouds of Sinclair's brain.
"Did you stay here just to ass about with this filth?" he demanded, rather red in the face, pointing contemptuously to the pile of impositions.
"Well, as I was doing nothing...."
"Rot! Did you or did you not?"
"Yes; I did."
Sinclair meditated in an embarrassed silence; then he held out his hand.
"You know, Spitfire, you're not half such a swine as I thought," he admitted handsomely.
"Go and get your hat," O'Rane ordered. "I'll wait for you on Little End."