"I can't; it's quite out of the question," broke in Gilbert harshly, with a glance at Simon Quarle.
"But, my dear Gilbert, she seems quite set on it," urged Mr. Tant. "There can be no reason——"
"The reason is, young gentleman, that the house is full already," said Simon Quarle. "Full of people, I mean."
"You must understand, Tant," said Gilbert, without looking at him, "that I've lent the house to some friends of mine—for a time. Tell Mrs. Ewart-Crane that I'm sorry; under any other circumstances I should have been delighted."
"Oh, very well, my dear Byfield," said Mr. Tant. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he suggested quickly—"Perhaps after your friends have left—gone away from the house——"
"Mr. Byfield doesn't quite know when that's going to happen," said Simon Quarle maliciously. "These friends are down there as a sort of permanent arrangement—stop-as-long-as-they-like sort of thing."
"You seem to know a great deal about it," replied Tant, in his precise tones.
"I do; I've just been to see them," Simon Quarle answered, with a grim laugh. "The sort of guests, young gentleman, that you don't get rid of in a hurry, I can assure you."
Gilbert plunged into the dangerous conversation hurriedly. "I don't think anything more need be said, Mr. Quarle," he exclaimed. "If you'll excuse me now, there are things I want to talk to Mr. Tant about. Good day to you!"
Simon Quarle got up, and walked to the door of the room; turned there, and spoke with characteristic bluntness. "Sorry if I've hurt anybody's feelings," he said. "Of course, it's no business of mine."