He will be glad to come, I know, but if you seem to want him too much, it is just like his confounded obstinacy to make objections." "There is something in that," observed Magnus, as Harran drew up at the porch of the house.

"He is a queer, cross-grained fellow, but in many ways sterling." Annixter was lying in the hammock on the porch, precisely as Presley had found him the day before, reading "David Copperfield" and stuffing himself with dried prunes.

When he recognised Magnus, however, he got up, though careful to give evidence of the most poignant discomfort.

He explained his difficulty at great length, protesting that his stomach was no better than a spongebag.

Would Magnus and Harran get down and have a drink?
There was whiskey somewhere about.
Magnus, however, declined.