"One has all sorts of acquaintances," I drawled, with a shrug of my shoulders.
"You 're a sly little kitten—if you 're not a cat. You heard me say I thought of calling at the château."
"And you heard me say the owner was n't at home."
"You seem well acquainted with his movements."
"I happened to see him, on his way south, at Avignon, some days ago."
"Did he see you?"
"Is n't that my affair—and his?"
"By Jove—you 've got good cheek, to talk like this to your mistress's stepson! But maybe you think you won't have difficulty in finding a place that pays you better—what?"
"I could n't find one to pay me much worse."
"Look here, my dear, I 'm not out huntin' for repartee. I want to have an understanding with you."
"I don't see why."
"Yes, you do, well enough. You know I like you—in spite of your impudence."
"And I dislike you because of yours. Oh, do go away and leave me, Mr. Stokes."
"I won't. I 've got a lot to say to you. I 've only just begun, but you keep interruptin' me, and I can't get ahead."
"Finish then."
"Well, what I want to say is this. I always meant we should stop at Fontainebleau."
"Oh—you damaged your stepfather's car on purpose! He would be obliged to you."
"Not quite that. I intended to get them to have tea
