"
"Not even the dog kennel," said Hope dryly, for the Professor's
chatter was so rude as to be quite annoying.
"Pooh! pooh! pooh! Random doesn't mind a joke. You, Hope, have
no sense of humor. Your name is Scotch also. I believe you are
a Caledonian."
"I am nothing of the sort. I was born on this side of the
border."
"You might have been born at the North Pole for all I care," said
the little man politely. "I don't like artists: they are usually
silly. I wish Lucy had married a man of science. Now don't talk
rubbish. I know what you are going to say."
"Well," said Archie, humoring him, "what am I going to say?"
This non-plussed the irritable savant.
"Hum! Hum! hum! I don't know and don't care. Pouf! How hot
this room is! What a number of books of travel Random has!"
Braddock was now at the bookcase, which consisted of shelves
swung by cords against the wall.
"Random travels a great deal," Archie reminded him.
"Quite so: quite so. Wastes his money on that silly yacht. But
he hasn't traveled in South America. I expect he's going there.
Come here, Hope, and see the many, many books about Peru and
Chili and Brazil. There must be a dozen, and all library books
too.
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