I slipped the end of my umbrella into the doorway.
"Is Grayle at home, Guy?" I asked. "I'm Raymond Stornaway, if you don't recognise my voice. I have to see him on very important business."
There can be few minor humiliations so disconcerting as to slam a door and find that it will not close.
"You'll only ruin a good umbrella, Guy," I said. "Listen to reason, man. You remember our talk the last time I was here? You know that Grayle's by way of being cited as a co-respondent?"
"Take your umbrella out!" Guy whispered angrily, feeling for it with his foot, but not daring to detach either hand from the door.
"I've come with a proposal from O'Rane," I said.
The energetic foot relaxed its industry.
"Grayle's given orders that you're not to be admitted," he said.
"I know. And you're enough in his confidence to say whether he's likely to be interested by hearing O'Rane's proposal. I sent him a note this morning, but he didn't see fit to acknowledge it. If he's going to take the same line now, tell me at once, and I'll go away. If, on the other hand, he'll let us in and behave himself, we'll come. I may tell you, as I've already told Grayle, that I don't come to see him for any morbid pleasure which I may derive from our meetings!"
Discretion and discipline did battle within Guy's spirit, and at length he asked, "Who's 'us'?"