The countryman leaned a bit forward and rested his elbow upon his knee, his chin upon his hand.
"Suppose I suggest a point then: Miss Florence Baker."
Sidwell stiffened with exaggerated dignity. "I never discuss my relations with a lady, even with a friend. I should be less apt to do so in speaking with a stranger."
The lids of Ben's eyes tightened just a shade. "Then I'll have to ask you to make an exception to the rule," he said slowly.
"In that case," Sidwell responded quickly, "I'll refuse."
For a moment silence fell. Through the open window came the ceaseless drone of the shifting multitude on the street below.
"Nevertheless, I insist," said Ben, calmly.
Sidwell's face flushed, although he was quite sober now. "And I must still refuse," he said, rising. "Moreover, I must request that you leave the room. You forget that you are in my home!"
Ben arose calmly and walked to the door through which he had entered. The key was in the lock, and turning it he put it in his pocket. Still without haste he returned to his seat.
"That this is your home, and that you were its dictator before I came and will be after I leave, I do not contest," he said; "but temporarily the place has changed hands. I do not think you were quite in earnest when you refused to talk with me."