They called him Guardy, but without knowing more he
did not want to admit the old curmudgeon's right to interfere.
"Are you a relation of theirs, sir?"
Old Heythorp nodded.
Bob Pillin went on with desperation:
"I should like to know what your objection to me is."
The old man turned his head so far as he was able; a grim smile bristled
the hairs about his lips, and twinkled in his eyes. What did he object
to? Why--everything! Object to! That sleek head, those puppy-dog eyes,
fattish red cheeks, high collars, pearl pin, spats, and drawl-pah! the
imbecility, the smugness of his mug; no go, no devil in any of his
sort, in any of these fish-veined, coddled-up young bloods, nothing but
playing for safety! And he wheezed out:
"Milk and water masquerading as port wine."
Bob Pillin frowned.
It was almost too much for the composure even of a man of the world.
That this paralytic old fellow should express contempt for his virility
was really the last thing in jests. Luckily he could not take it
seriously. But suddenly he thought: 'What if he really has the power to
stop my going there, and means to turn them against me!' And his heart
quailed.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158