Mr. Hoopdriver, for some occult reason, resisted his characteristic impulse to apologise. He wanted to annoy the other man in brown, and a sentence that had come into his head in a previous rehearsal cropped up appropriately. "Since when," said Mr. Hoopdriver, catching his breath, yet bringing the question out valiantly, nevertheless,—"since when 'ave you purchased the county of Sussex?"
"May I point out," said the other man in brown, "that I object—we object not only to your proximity to us. To be frank—you appear to be following us—with an object."
"You can always," said Mr. Hoopdriver, "turn round if you don't like it, and go back the way you came."
"Oh-o!" said the other man in brown. "That's it! I thought as much."
"Did you?" said Mr. Hoopdriver, quite at sea, but rising pluckily to the unknown occasion. What was the man driving at?
"I see," said the other man. "I see. I half suspected—" His manner changed abruptly to a quality suspiciously friendly. "Yes—a word with you. You will, I hope, give me ten minutes."
Wonderful things were dawning on Mr. Hoopdriver. What did the other man take him for? Here at last was reality! He hesitated. Then he
