“I’ve been hearing about this,” he said. “Are all them names there, the names of friends of yours?”
Mr. Thorpe looked a little astonished; but he answered after a moment’s hesitation:
“Certainly; the most valued friends I have in the world.”
“Friends,” pursued Mat, reading to himself the introductory sentence in the address, “who have put the most affectionate trust in you.”
Mr. Thorpe began to look rather offended as well as rather astonished. “Will you excuse me,” he said coldly, “if I beg you to proceed to the business that has brought you here.”
Mat placed the Address on the table again, immediately in front of him; and took a pencil from a tray with writing materials in it, which stood near at hand. “Friends ‘who have put the most affectionate trust in you,’” he repeated. “The name of one of them friends isn’t here. It ought to be; and I mean to put it down.”
As the point of his pencil touched the paper of the Address, Mr. Thorpe started from his chair.
“What am I to understand, sir, by this conduct?” he began haughtily, stretching out his hand to possess himself of the Address.
Mat looked up with the serpent-glitter in his eyes, and the angry red tinge glowing in the scars on his cheek. “Sit down,” he said, “I’m not quick at writing. Sit down, and wait till I’m done.”
Mr. Thorpe’s face began to look a little agitated. He took a step towards the fireplace, intending to ring the bell.