Besides, it isn't nice to own that you've been
thrown over like a broken chair. I must carry this business through alone--as
usual. If there isn't a war, and Torp finds out, I shall look foolish, that's
all. If there is a way I mustn't interfere with another man's chances. Business
is business, and I want to be alone--I want to be alone. What a row they're
making!"
Somebody hammered at the studio door.
"Come out and frolic, Dickie," said the Nilghai.
"I should like to, but I can't. I'm not feeling frolicsome."
"Then, I'll tell the boys and they'll drag you like a badger."
"Please not, old man. On my word, I'd sooner be left alone just now."
"Very good. Can we send anything in to you? Fizz, for instance. Cassavetti is
beginning to sing songs of the Sunny South already."
For one minute Dick considered the proposition seriously.
"No, thanks, I've a headache already."
"Virtuous child. That's the effect of emotion on the young. All my
congratulations, Dick. I also was concerned in the conspiracy for your
welfare."
"Go to the devil--oh, send Binkie in here."
The little dog entered on elastic feet, riotous from having been made much of
all the evening. He had helped to sing the choruses; but scarcely inside the
studio he realised that this was no place for tail-wagging, and settled himself
on Dick's lap till it was bedtime.
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