"Hullo, Burton!" he exclaimed, coming to a standstill and taking the
pipe from his mouth.
"How do you do, sir?" Burton replied, civilly.
Getting on all right, eh?
"Very nicely indeed, thank you, sir."
Mr. Waddington grunted.
"Hm! You don't look like it! Got a job yet?"
"No, sir."
"Then how the devil can you be getting on at all?" Mr. Waddington
inquired.
Burton smiled quite pleasantly.
"It does seem queer, sir," he admitted. "I said that I was getting on
all right because I am contented and happy. That is the chief thing
after all, isn't it?"
Mr. Waddington opened his mouth and closed it again.
"I wish I could make out what the devil it was that happened to you," he
said. "Why, you used to be as smart as they make 'em, a regular nipper
after business. I expected you'd be after me for a partnership before
long, and I expect I'd have had to give it you. And then you went clean
dotty. I shall never forget that day at the sale, when you began
telling people everything it wasn't good for them to know."
"You mean that it wasn't good for us for them to know," Burton corrected
gently.
Mr. Waddington laughed. He had a large amount of easy good-humor and
he was always ready to laugh.
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