He half rose, indeed, to follow her, but his host and Mr.
Bomford both moved their chairs so that they sat on either side of him.
The professor filled the glasses with his own hand. It was his special
claret, a wonderful wine, the cobwebbed bottle of which, reposing in a
wicker cradle, he handled with jealous care.
"Mr. Burton," he began, settling down in his chair, "we have been
unjust to you, Mr. Bomford and I. We apologize. We ask your
forgiveness."
"Unjust?" Burton murmured.
"Unjust," the professor repeated. "I allude to this with a certain
amount of shame. We made you an offer of a thousand pounds for a
portion of that--er--peculiar product to which you owe this wonderful
change in your disposition. We were in the wrong. We had thoughts in
our mind which we should have shared with you. It was not fair, Mr.
Burton, to attempt to carry out such a scheme as Mr. Bomford here had
conceived, without including you in it." The professor nodded to
himself, amiably satisfied with his words. Burton remained mystified.
Mr. Bomford took up the ball.
"We yielded, Mr. Burton," he said, "to the natural impulse of all
business men. We tried to make the best bargain we could for ourselves.
A little reflection and--er--your refusal of our offer, has brought us
into what I trust you will find a more reasonable frame of mind.
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