Not half a bad motto,
Sir--eh?"
It was clumsily expressed--but still it was an apology. Not even
Geoffrey could appeal to Sir Patrick's courtesy and Sir Patrick's
consideration in vain.
"Not a word more, Mr. Delamayn!" said the polite old man. "Accept my
excuses for any thing which I may have said too sharply, on my side; and
let us by all means forget the rest."
Having met the advance made to him, in those terms, he paused,
expecting Geoffrey to leave him free to return to the Decameron. To
his unutterable astonishment, Geoffrey suddenly stooped over him, and
whispered in his ear, "I want a word in private with you."
Sir Patrick started back, as if Geoffrey had tried to bite him.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Delamayn--what did you say?"
"Could you give me a word in private?"
Sir Patrick put back the Decameron; and bowed in freezing silence. The
confidence of the Honorable Geoffrey Delamayn was the last confidence in
the world into which he desired to be drawn. "This is the secret of the
apology!" he thought. "What can he possibly want with Me?"
"It's about a friend of mine," pursued Geoffrey; leading the way toward
one of the windows.
Pages:
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352