“If you’re not outside the front door in five minutes, I’m going to fetch the police,” he said, fiercely.
“I want to see Florrie,” said the other.
“Well, you won’t see her,” shouted Mr. Mott.
Mr. Hurst stood feeling his chin.
“Well, would you mind taking a message for me?” he asked. “I just want you to ask her whether I am really free. Ask her whether I am free to marry again.”
Mr. Mott eyed him in amazement.
“You see, I only heard from her mother,” pursued Mr. Hurst, “and a friend of mine who is in a solicitor’s office says that isn’t good enough. I only came down here to make sure, and I think the least she can do is to tell me herself. If she won’t see me, perhaps she’d put it in writing. You see, there’s another lady.”
“But!” said the mystified Mr. Mott.
“You told me——”
“You tell her that,” said the other.