"About as bad as is possible, in spite of having
been at sea so much. But we had a talk
while they were loading at Genoa. You know
Williams, I think? He's a thoroughly good fellow,
trustworthy and sensible; so is Bailey, for
that matter; and they both know how to hold
their tongues."
"It seems to me, though, that Bailey is running
a serious risk in doing a thing like this."
"So I told him, and he only looked sulky and
said: 'What business is that of yours?' Just the
sort of thing one would expect him to say. If I
met Bailey in Timbuctoo, I should go up to him
and say: 'Good-morning, Englishman.'"
"But I can't conceive how you managed to get
their consent; Williams, too; the last man I
should have thought of."
"Yes, he objected strongly at first; not on the
ground of danger, though, but because the thing
is 'so unbusiness-like.' But I managed to win
him over after a bit. And now we will go into
details."
. . . . .
When the Gadfly reached his lodgings the sun
had set, and the blossoming pyrus japonica that
hung over the garden wall looked dark in the fading
light.
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