The Club of Queer Trades
"Well, sir," said the major, breathing hard, "what about that?"
"What about it, precisely," said the man with the mustache.
"I am Major Brown," said that gentleman, sternly.
Northover bowed. "Pleased to meet you, sir. What have you to say to me?"
"Say!" cried the major, loosing a sudden tempest; "why, I want this confounded thing settled. I want—"
"Certainly, sir," said Northover, jumping up, with a slight elevation of the eyebrows. "Will you take a chair for a moment." And he pressed an electric bell just above him, which thrilled and tinkled in a room beyond. The major put his hand on the back of the chair offered him, but stood chafing and beating the floor with his polished boot.
The next moment an inner glass door was opened and a fair, weedy, young man in a frock-coat entered from within.
"Mr. Hopson," said Northover, "this is Major Brown. Will you please finish that
36
