He turned and faced his subordinate.
"I really don't know, Clarkson," he admitted.

"I am sure that I was quite polite, and I showed him everything he wished to see; but, of course, I had to tell him the truth about the place." "The what ?" young Clarkson inquired, in a mystified tone.
"The truth," Burton repeated.
"Wot yer mean ?" "About the typhoid and that," Burton explained, mildly.
The office-boy pondered for a moment.

Then he slowly opened a ledger, drew a day-book towards him, and continued his work.

He was being jollied, of course, but the thing was too subtle for him at present.

He decided to wait for the next move.