He shrugged his shoulders with a short laugh.
"This is hospitality indeed," he said, moving towards the door.
Then suddenly he turned and looked at her gravely.
"I wonder," he said slowly, "if you are doing this for a purpose.
You said that you met my father--"
"Your father is not the man to ask any one's assistance in his own
domestic affairs, and anything I attempted to do could only be
looked upon as the most unwarrantable interference."
"Yes," said Meredith seriously. "I beg your pardon. You are
right."
He went to his own room and summoned Joseph.
"When is the next boat home?" he asked.
"Boat on Thursday, sir."
Meredith nodded. After a little pause he pointed to a chair.
"Just sit down," he said. "I want to talk over this Simiacine
business with you."
Joseph squared his shoulders, and sat down with a face indicative of
the gravest attention. Sitting thus he was no longer a servant, but
a partner in the Simiacine. He even indulged in a sidelong jerk of
the head, as if requesting the attention of some absent friend in a
humble sphere of life to this glorious state of affairs.
"You know," said Meredith, "Mr. Durnovo is more or less a
blackguard."
Joseph drew in his feet, having previously hitched his trousers up
at the knees.
"Yes, sir," he said, glancing up.
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