Again, the visitor smiled, and with a warm expansiveness that was meant to indicate a heart full of generous helpfulness.
"You don't need him, my boy," he declared, unctuously. "You are dealing with an old friend."
Carrington nodded in ponderous corroboration of the statement.
"Of course not, of course not!" he rumbled, in a husky bass voice.
Hamilton let irritation run away with discretion. He spoke with something that was very like a sneer:
"I thought possibly that was just why I might need him."
Morton seemed not to hear the caustic comment. At any rate, he blandly ignored it, as he turned to address Carrington.
"You remember Hamilton, senior, don't you?" he asked.
"Very well!" replied the gentleman of weight. His red face grew almost apoplectic, and the big body writhed in the chair. His tones were surcharged with a bitterness that he tried in vain to conceal. Morton regarded these signs of feeling with an amusement that he had no reluctance in displaying. On the contrary, he laughed aloud in his associate's face.