“I didn't think you were still in this part of the country,” I remarked awkwardly.
“I'm a reporter on a Boston newspaper, and I've been sent up here to interview old Mr. Dome, who lives in that house,” and he pointed to a roof above the trees. “There is a rumour, which I hope to verify, that he has just given a hundred thousand dollars to the University.”
“And—won't he see you?”
“At present he's taking a nap,” said Krebs. “He comes here occasionally for a rest.”
“Do you like interviewing?” I asked.
He smiled again.
“Well, I see a good many different kinds of people, and that's interesting.”
“But—being a reporter?” I persisted.
This continued patronage was not a conscious expression of superiority on my part, but he did not seem to resent it. He had aroused my curiosity.
“I'm going into the law,” he said.