"What is he, then?"
"A fraud—of some sort. I don't care. I hate him!"
"You're hard on Mr. Brinsley," observed Fanny, slowly, and watching her companion sideways.
"Considering what you've been saying about him—"
"I said nothing about him except that I began by liking him awfully."
"Well—you left the rest to my imagination. I did as well as I could. If you didn't hate him yourself, you'd hardly have been telling me all this, would you?"
"Oh—I don't know. I might be going to ask your advice about—about him."
"Take him out in your boat and drown him," suggested Lawrence. "That's my advice about him."
"What has he done to you, Mr. Lawrence?" enquired Fanny, gravely. "Why do you hate him so?"
"Why? It's plain enough, it seems to me—plain as a—what do you call the thing?"
