"What—what—what do you—mean by it?" gasped Mr. Smithson. "After all my trouble. After our—bargain."
"I altered my mind," said Mr. Clarkson, with dignity.
"Pah!" said the other.
"Just in time," said Mr. Clarkson, speaking rapidly. "Another day and I believe I should ha' been too late. It took me pretty near an hour to talk her over. Said I'd been neglecting her, and all that sort of thing; said that she was beginning to think I didn't want her. As hard a job as ever I had in my life."
"But you didn't want her," said the amazed Mr. Smithson. "You told me so."
"You misunderstood me," said Mr. Clarkson, coughing. "You jump at conclusions."
Mr. Smithson sat staring at him. "I heard," he said at last, with an effort... "I heard that Digson was paying her attentions."
Mr. Clarkson spoke without thought. "Ha, he was only after her money," he said, severely. "Good heavens! What's the matter?"
Mr. Smithson, who had sprung to his feet, made no reply, but stood for some time incapable of speech.
"What—is—the—matter?" repeated Mr. Clarkson. "Ain't you well?"