Miss Garland shuddered.
"Never!" she said, firmly. "He'd be down on his knees. It would be too
painful. You don't know him."
"Don't want to," said Mr. Mott.
He finished his breakfast in silence, and, after a digestive pipe,
proposed a walk. The profile of Mr. Hurst, as it went forlornly past the
window again, served to illustrate Miss Garland's refusal.
"I'll go out and see him," said Mr. Mott, starting up. "Are you going to
be a prisoner here until this young idiot chooses to go home? It's
preposterous!"
He crammed his hat on firmly and set out in pursuit of Mr. Hurst, who was
walking slowly up the street, glancing over his shoulder. "Morning!"
said Mr. Mott, fiercely. "Good morning," said the other.
"Now, look here," said Mr. Mott. "This has gone far enough, and I won't
have any more of it. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, chivvying
a young lady that doesn't want you. Haven't you got any pride?"
"No," said the young man, "not where she is concerned."
"I don't believe you have," said the other, regarding him, "and I expect
that's where the trouble is.
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