Clenching his bowler hat, and only kept in his seat by that sense of something behind, Bob Pillin ejaculated:
"Impudence! That's good--after what you did! Look here, why did you? It's so extraordinary!"
"Oh! is it? You wait a bit, my friend!"
Still more moved by the mystery of this affair, Bob Pillin could only mutter:
"I never gave you their address; we were only talking about old Heythorp."
And at the smile which spread between Mr. Ventnor's whiskers, he jumped up, crying:
"It's not the thing, and you're not going to put me off. I insist on an explanation."
Mr. Ventnor leaned back, crossing his stout legs, joining the tips of his thick fingers. In this attitude he was always self-possessed.