Hardy played with his pen. The senior partner had been amusing himself
at his expense for some time, and in the hope of a favour at his hands he
had endured it with unusual patience.
"Four o'clock," murmured the senior partner; "hadn't you better see about
making yourself presentable, Hardy?"
[Illustration: "Hadn't you better see about making yourself presentable,
Hardy?"]
"Thanks," said the other, with alacrity, as he took off his coat and
crossed over to the little washstand. In five minutes he had finished
his toilet and, giving his partner a little friendly pat on the shoulder,
locked up his desk.
"Well?" he said, at last.
"Well?" repeated Mr. Swann, with a little surprise.
"What am I to tell them?" inquired Hardy, struggling to keep his temper.
"Tell them?" repeated the innocent Swann. "Lor' bless my soul, how you
do jump at conclusions, Hardy. I only asked you to tidy yourself for my
sake. I have an artistic eye. I thought you had done it to please me."
"When you're tired of this nonsense," said the indignant Hardy, "I shall
be glad."
Mr. Swann looked him over carefully and, coming to the conclusion that
his patience was exhausted, told him the result of his inquiries. His
immediate reward was the utter incredulity of Mr. Hardy, together with
some pungent criticisms of his veracity.
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