I
believe it often happens like that, sir."
"You're all wrong," said Sam. "It's not that at all."
"Indeed, sir? I supposed it was."
"Nothing like it! I--I--"
Sam's dignity, on its death-bed, made a last effort to assert itself.
"I don't know what it's got to do with you!"
"Precisely, sir!" said Webster, with dignity. "Just as you say! Good
afternoon, sir!"
He swayed gracefully, conveying a suggestion of departure without
moving his feet. The action was enough for Sam. Dignity gave an
expiring gurgle, and passed away, regretted by all.
"Don't go!" he cried.
The idea of being alone in this infernal lane, without human support,
overpowered him. Moreover, Webster had personality. He exuded it.
Already Sam had begun to cling to him in spirit, and rely on his
support.
"Don't go!"
"Certainly not, if you do not wish it, sir."
Webster coughed gently, to show his appreciation of the delicate nature
of the conversation. He was consumed with curiosity, and his threatened
departure had been but a pretence.
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