‘Many thanks, but I think I had better not.’

’Oh, but do!  I want you to see how Bella is getting on.  She’s grown wonderfully since you saw her in Paris—­an inch taller, I should think.  I don’t go down there very often, you know, so I notice these changes.  Really, I think no one could be more discreet than I am, under the circumstances.  A friend of the family; that’s all.  Just dropping in for a casual cup of tea now and then.  Sunday will be a special occasion, of course.  I say, what are your views about early marriage?  Do you think seventeen too young?’

‘I should think seven-and-twenty much better.’

Malkin broke into fretfulness.

’Let me tell you, Earwaker, I don’t like the way you habitually speak of this project of mine.  Plainly, I don’t like it.  It’s a very serious matter indeed—­eh?  What?  Why are you smiling?’

‘I agree with you as to its seriousness.’

’Yes, yes; but in a very cynical and offensive way.  It makes me confoundedly uncomfortable, let me tell you.  I don’t think that’s very friendly on your part.  And the fact is, if it goes on I’m very much afraid we shan’t see so much of each other as we have done.  I like you, Earwaker, and I respect you; I think you know that.  But occasionally you seem to have too little regard for one’s feelings.  No, I don’t feel able to pass it over with a joke.—­There!  The deuce take it!  I’ve bitten off the end of my pipe.’

He spat out a piece of amber, and looked ruefully at the broken stem.

‘Take a cigar,’ said Earwaker, fetching a box from a cupboard.

’I don’t mind.—­Well—­what was I saying?  Oh yes; I was quarrelling with you.  Now, look here, what fault have you to find with Bella Jacox?’

‘None whatever.  She seemed to me a very amiable child.’

’Child!  Pooh! pshaw!  And fifteen next Sunday, I tell you.  She’s a young lady, and to tell you the confounded plain truth, I’m in love with her.  I am, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.  If you smile, we shall quarrel.  I warn you, Earwaker, we shall quarrel.’

The journalist, instead of smiling, gave forth his deepest laugh.  Malkin turned very red, scowled, and threw his cigar aside.

‘You really wish me to go on Sunday?’ Earwaker asked, in a pleasant voice.

The other’s countenance immediately cleared.

’I shall take it as a great kindness.  Mrs. Jacox will be delighted.  Meet me at Holborn Viaduct at 1.25.  No, to make sure I’ll come here at one o’clock.’

In a few minutes he was chatting as unconcernedly as ever.