"I want you to step this way," I said firmly.
I expected an irritable outburst, but to my surprise he turned and
preceded me toward the door. We entered the room and found Mr. Bundercombe
there alone. Lord Porthoning looked from one to the other of us. His heavy
gray eyebrows were drawn together; his face was the embodiment of a snarl.
"Now what in the name of all that's reasonable," he began in his hard,
rasping voice, "made you bring me in here? I don't want to better my
acquaintance with that old man, your father-in-law! I'd a good deal rather
he'd stayed in his own country. I don't like the looks of him--I hate fat
men! Don't keep me waiting here, Paul. If you want my advice I'll give it
to you. If you want anything else you won't get it."
Mr. Bundercombe had moved softly round until he was standing with his back
to the door. His manner was the one he had assumed so successfully in
church--dignified, almost solemn.
"Paul," he said, "I asked you to invite this person in here because, now
that you are Eve's husband, I felt that the interests of your family must
be considered before my own inclinations. In my country we treat all men
alike, and I am bound to say that if you'd been married to Eve out in
Okata, and I'd seen any old skunk, whether he'd been an earl or what he
looks like--a secondhand clothes dealer--sneaking Eve's presents, I'd have
had him in prison before you'd reached the station.
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