“It had? that’s lucky. How much was it for?”
“I couldn’t see,” said Gilks.
“Where is he now?” asked Silk, after a pause.
“I don’t know. Probably in his Holiness’s study—or, no, it’s library night—he’ll be there.”
“What a nuisance that library is. The young beggar’s always pottering about there,” said Silk. “Think he’ll look us up before bedtime?”
“Don’t know,” said Gilks.
“You’d better know,” said Silk. “He must come, and you’d better see he does.”
This last was spoken in a somewhat menacing voice, and Gilks sulkily replied, “What are you in such a hurry to-night for? The morning will do, won’t it?”
“No,” said Silk, “it won’t, there; and if it did, I choose to see him to-night.”
“I don’t know what makes you so precious disagreeable,” growled Gilks. “I don’t want to be ordered about by you, I can tell you.”