“He’s a long time,” muttered Mr. Fledgeby, looking at his watch. “What time may you make it, Mr. Twemlow?”

Mr. Twemlow made it ten minutes past twelve, sir.

“As near as a toucher,” assented Fledgeby. “I hope, Mr. Twemlow, your business here may be of a more agreeable character than mine.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Twemlow.

Fledgeby again made his small eyes smaller, as he glanced with great complacency at Twemlow, who was timorously tapping the table with a folded letter.