Isn't that so, Mr.Gerard?
Don't you see it yourself, Cristy?
For instance, I say it without fear in his presence: 'tis the act of a fool to be fumbling over writings, when there's nothing in them that's not well known to himself already--unless indeed they are worth money, which I don't doubt is no secret to _you,_ Mr.Gerard?
Eh?
I beg your pardon, sir, did you speak?
No?
I beg your pardon again.

Yes, yes, Cristy, I'm noticing him; he's done with his writings.

Suppose I offer to put them away for him?
You can see in his face he finds the tale of them correct.
He's coming this way.

What's he going to do next ?" He was going to establish a claim on my gratitude, by relieving me of Giles Toller.
"I have something to say to Mr.Roylake," he announced, with a haughty look at his landlord.

"Mind! I don't forget your screaming at me just now, and I intend to know what you meant by it.