"Oh, your rights!" interrupted Shergold. "Come, come. You're forgetting our agreement. The boy remains in his mother's care, and under her control, till he's one-and-twenty, and you're not to interfere."
"But it was understood that I could see him whenever I wished."
"And so you can. But you must go to see him; Lily can't let him leave her, to come to you. If you choose to exile yourself to Le Tas, and lead this solitary, half-savage sort of life, you can't complain that you're prevented from seeing Phil. It's your own fault. You ought to be living at Rozaine."
"Tell my wife what she ought or ought not to do, since she's fool enough to listen to you," broke out Le Mesurier hotly, "and be damned to you both; I shall do as I please. What business is it of yours where or how I live?"
Shergold shrugged his shoulders.
"You appear to be as violent in temper, and as unrestrained in language, as ever," he said calmly. "A pretty example you'd set your son! But we're straying from the point. Let's give our attention to the business that brought me here, and get it done with." He drew a large envelope from the inner breast-pocket of his coat.
"You may save yourself the trouble of opening that," Le Mesurier informed him. "Let Lily send me the boy for a month, and I'll consider the matter. Under present conditions, I refuse even to discuss it with you."
"Nonsense," said Shergold. "You know she won't send you the boy. The notion is preposterous. Now, as for these papers———"
"I refuse to discuss the matter," Le Mesurier repeated. "Send me Phil, and we'll see. But, until then, I refuse to discuss it
