“Ah,” I said, looking round. “So it’s all changed.”
“Yes, Sir. After Doctor Deeming’s death we got rid of the old stuff,
and Mr. Kersteven bought the Doctor’s house and threw the two houses
into one. It’s more suitable now.”
“It was awful before.”
“Well, Sir, it was scarcely to Mr. Kersteven’s taste. We rather roughed
it for a time, Sir.”
He took my hat and stick and showed me upstairs into a charming
drawing-room, in which I at once recognised many beautiful things from
Vernon’s house in Rome. Here Vernon met me with an outstretched hand.
“By Jove, what a transformation!” I exclaimed.
“To be sure, you haven’t seen it since⸺”
“Since the frogs and the beetles and the Japanese umbrellas were turned
out. No. And so now you’ve got Deeming’s house too?”
“Yes. I have joined the two together, but I use his chiefly for my work
in connection with our dumb friends.”
“Oh!”
His voice was significant in that last sentence, and I realised that in
him imagination was often the guide, leading him strangely, dominating
him powerfully.
Tea was ready, and we sat down.
Giving expression to my thought, I said, “Strange that you should be
living in Deeming’s house.”
“Why so?”
“Oh, well, you were antagonists, weren’t you?”
“Could the difference between us be called antagonism?” he asked,
pouring out the tea.
“Wasn’t it? Once Deeming told me that he knew⸺”