A moment later Roger Hapgood, immaculate in a smartly cut gray suit
and gloves, came smiling into the library, his hand outstretched, his
manner the manner of a man so thoroughly at home that he does not stop
to ring. He did not at first see Conniston half hidden in his big
chair. But Conniston saw him, was quick to notice the air of
familiarity, the smile which rested affectionately upon Mr. Crawford
and ran on, no doubt meant to be adoring and certainly was very soft,
to Argyl--and Conniston was seized with a sudden desire to take the
ingratiating Roger Hapgood by the back of the collar and kick him upon
the seat of his beautifully fitting trousers.
"Good evening, Mr. Crawford. I ran in on a little business for Mr.
Winston. Ah, Miss Argyl! So glad to see you."
His little hand, which had been swallowed up in one of Mr. Crawford's,
and which emerged rosy and crumpled, was proffered gallantly to the
girl. And then Hapgood saw Conniston.
"Oh, I say," he stammered, a very trifle confused. "It's Conniston. I
didn't know--"
His pale eyes, under nicely arched brows, went from father to daughter
as though Roger Hapgood were willing to admit that anything which they
thought fit to do was all very right and proper, but that he was none
the less surprised to find them entertaining one of the hired men.
"Yes, I'm still with the Half Moon," Conniston said, still nettled,
but more amused, making no move to rise or put out his hand. "How are
you, Roger?"
"How do, Conniston?" replied Mr. Hapgood, the rising young lawyer.
Conniston idly wondered what had made his friend go to work. On the
surface the reason seemed to be Argyl. Yet Hapgood showed a new side,
a determination most unusual in him. Later Conniston was to know, to
understand.
"And you like it?"
"Immensely. You ought to try it, Roger!"
Hapgood shuddered. "Couldn't think of it. A lark, no doubt, but I
haven't the time for larks nowadays. I'm in the law." He turned to Mr.
Crawford. "Thanks to you. Fascinating, and all that, but it does keep
a man busy. I hated to disturb you to-night," with an apologetic smile
at Argyl, "but Mr. Winston thought that the matter ought to be brought
up before you immediately."
He was bursting with importance, some of which seemed to have popped
out of his inflated little being and now protruded from an inside
pocket in the form of some very legal-looking papers.
Mr. Crawford, upon his feet, said bluntly: "If we've got business,
Hapgood, we'd better be at it. Let's go into the office. Argyl, you
will excuse us? And you, Mr. Conniston?"
He went out. Hapgood tarried a moment for a lingering look at Argyl.
"You will excuse us, Miss Argyl? I'll hurry through with this as fast
as I can."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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