"And--what sort of business are you going to do,
pray?"
"Agency," replied Pratt, promptly. "It struck me some little time ago
that a smart man,--like myself, eh?--could do well here in Barford as an
agent in a new sort of fashion--attending to things for people who
aren't fitted or inclined to do 'em for themselves--or are rich enough
to employ somebody to look after their affairs. Of course, that
Normandale stewardship dropped out when young Harper died, and I don't
suppose the notion 'll be revived now that his sister's come in. But
I've got one good job to go on with---Mrs. Mallathorpe's given me her
affairs to look after."
Eldrick took one of the cigarettes and lighted it--as a sign of his
peaceable and amicable intentions.
"Pratt!" he said. "That's just what I've come to see you about.
Unofficially, mind--in quite a friendly way. It's like this"; and he
went on to tell Pratt of what had just occurred at his own office.
"So--there you are," he concluded. "I'm saying nothing, you know, it's
no affair of mine--but if these people begin to say that you've used any
undue influence----"
"Mr. Collingwood, and Mr. Robson, and Miss Mallathorpe--and anybody,"
answered Pratt, slowly and firmly, "had better mind what they are
saying, Mr. Eldrick. There's such a thing as slander, as you're well
aware. I'm not the man to be slandered, or libelled, or to have my
character defamed--without fighting for my rights.
Pages:
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147