“I’ve kept a copy. I’ll see to that. It’s only to ask them to call round,” he said, with evident confusion.
I did not believe a word he said. And more than that, I strongly suspected all this was a device to get me out of the office—and that was what I had no intention of submitting to.
“If it’s to ask them to call round,” I said, “it will do when the commissionaire comes at half-past nine.”
“But I tell you it must be there at nine,” he exclaimed.
“Then,” said I, “you had better take it yourself.”
I had ceased to be afraid of Hawkesbury, or the look with which he returned to his desk might have made me uneasy.
I could see that as the time went on he became still more uneasy.
Once more he came to me.
“Will you go with the letter?” he demanded angrily.
“No, I won’t go with the letter,” I replied, in decided tones.