Mr. Snowdon seated himself, supremely
indifferent to the inconvenience he had probably caused. He seemed
in excellent humour.
'Decent fellow, Hewett,' he observed, putting up one leg against the
fireplace. 'Very decent fellow. He's getting old, unfortunately. Had
a good deal of trouble, I understand; it breaks a man up.'
Sidney scowled, and said nothing.
'I thought I'd stay, as I _was_ here,' continued Joseph, unbuttoning
his respectable overcoat and throwing it open. 'There was something
rather particular I had in mind. Won't you sit down?'
'No, thank you.'
Joseph glanced at him, and smiled all the more.
'I've had a little talk with the old man about Jane. By-the-by, I'm
sorry to say he's very shaky; doesn't look himself at all. I didn't
know you had spoken to him quite so--you know what I mean. It
seems to be his idea that everything's at an end between you.'
'Perhaps so.'
'Well, now, look here. You won't mind me just--Do you think it
was wise to put it in that way to him? I'm afraid you're making him
feel just a little uncertain about you. I'm speaking as a friend,
you know. In your own interest, Kirkwood. Old men get queer ideas
into their heads.
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