Will you have a drop of whisky ?" Kitely laid a handful of gold and silver on the desk, took the receipt, and nodded his head, still watching Cotherstone with the same half-humorous expression.
"Thank you," he said.

"I shouldn't mind." He watched Cotherstone produce a decanter and glasses, watched him fetch fresh water from a filter in the corner of the room, watched him mix the drinks, and took his own with no more than a polite nod of thanks.

And Cotherstone, murmuring an expression of good wishes, took a drink himself, and sat down with his desk-chair turned towards his visitor.
"Aught you'd like doing at the house, Mr.Kitely ?" he asked.
"No," answered Kitely, "no, I can't say that there is." There was something odd, almost taciturn, in his manner, and Cotherstone glanced at him a little wonderingly.
"And how do you like Highmarket, now you've had a spell of it ?" he inquired.

"Got settled down, I suppose, now ?" "It's all that I expected," replied Kitely.

"Quiet--peaceful.