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"You don't see any parallel between Bob's position and our friend's up there in Mount Street?" Harry laughed again as he held out his hand. "Well, you tell the story to Iver and see if he does," he suggested. "Oh, that's what you mean?" growled Duplay. "Yes," assented Harry, almost gleefully. "That's what I mean; only this time it won't hurt you, and I think it will help me.
The slightest look of surprise showed on Harry Tristram's face. A duel began. Duplay had readiness, suavity, volubility, a trick of flattering deference; on Harry's side were a stronger suggestion of power and an assumption, rather attractive, that he must be listened to. Janie liked this air of his, even while she resented it; here, in his own county at least, a Tristram of Blent was somebody.
Duplay had been baffled by Harry's diplomacy and expected no action from his side. To Neeld such a development seemed possible, and it was the only thing which to his mind could throw light on Mina's behavior. "Won't you show us the letter?" he asked gently. "Oh, yes. And I'll tell you anything you like now. It doesn't matter now." She looked at Neeld; she was loyal to the end.
"You must tell him that in ordinary circumstances I should propose to call on him and to come wherever he was, but well, he'll understand that I don't want to go to Blentmouth just now." The implied apology relieved what Duplay had begun to feel an intolerable arrogance, but it was a concession of form only, and did not touch the substance. The substance was and remained an ultimatum.
But Duplay's reasons were, in fact, overwhelming. Lady Tristram lived still, and he had the grace to count that as the strongest motive for holding his hand. Harry's campaign was for the moment at a standstill; Duplay had no doubt he would resume it as soon as his mother was buried; on its apparent progress the Major's action would depend.
This coincidence of views was a sore temptation to the Imp; to resist it altogether would seem superhuman. "I should like to cut his comb for him," growled Duplay. Whatever the metaphor adopted, Mina was in essential agreement. She launched on an account of how Harry had treated her: they fanned one another's fires, and the flames burnt merrily.
She met him fairly on a friendly footing of business; he was the sinner in that, while what she offered was undoubtedly hers, what he proposed to give in return was only precariously his. Nor had Duplay any cause of complaint in being kept waiting; he would be held exceedingly lucky not to be sent to the right-about instantly. But with Bob Broadley the matter was different.
He liked Duplay, he thought him clever, and, looking back on the history of the Tristram affair, he felt somehow that he would like to do the Major a good turn. Were they not in a sense companions in misfortune?
We may be five hundred more out of pocket. Never mind that." He pushed away the plans and elevations. "You're empowered to treat, I suppose?" he asked. Sloyd had whispered to him again. "No," said Duplay. "Multiply your twenty-five by two, and we're your men," said Harry. "Multiply it by two? Fifty thousand? Oh, nonsense!" "Twenty out of pocket thirty profit. I call it very reasonable."
The family scene at the house of Duplay the carpenter was exceedingly well managed; old Duplay, smoking his pipe, listening to his daughters playing on a spinet and singing sentimental songs of the Rousseau period, was perfect.
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