It was a laugh,
the purport of which was direct and essential, and yet which one
cannot exactly express. As near as it said anything, verbally
speaking, it said: "Well, if you must spoil it, you must. But you
don't know what you're spoiling."
"There is another thing," continued Mr Montmorency weakly. "Of
course, if you don't want to be visited you'll paint the house
green, but--"
"Green!" shouted Keith. "Green! Let it be green or nothing. I
won't have a house of another colour. Green!" and before we could
realize anything the door had banged between us and the street.
Rupert Grant seemed to take a little time to collect himself; but
he spoke before the echoes of the door died away.
"Your client, Lieutenant Keith, appears somewhat excited," he
said. "What is the matter with him? Is he unwell?"
"Oh, I should think not," said Mr Montmorency, in some confusion.
"The negotiations have been somewhat difficult--the house is
rather--"
"Green," said Rupert calmly. "That appears to be a very important
point. It must be rather green. May I ask you, Mr Montmorency,
before I rejoin my companion outside, whether, in your business,
it is usual to ask for houses by their colour? Do clients write
to a house-agent asking for a pink house or a blue house? Or, to
take another instance, for a green house?"
"Only," said Montmorency, trembling, "only to be inconspicuous.
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