these words he spread out upon Mr. Kirby's table a fairly large sheet of cartridge paper, neat, but bearing marks of age, and having drawn upon it in the various colours of the architect the elevation and plans of a house standing in small grounds. There was marked a lodge, a ground floor, a first floor and a second; at the back a small enclosed backyard, and in the side elevation could be seen let into the high steep roof of the topmost story a large skylight. It was beautifully tinted in blue.
"Architects do imitate nature well!" said Mr. Kirby half to himself. "It 's Greystones!" and he chuckled.
"You needn't laugh, Kirby!" thundered the aged Postlethwaite. "Oh, you 'll laugh the other side of your mouth before I 've done! Ruined, Kirby! Smashed! Destroyed! And no clue!"
Mr. Kirby put up his hand.
"Please, Mr. Postlethwaite, please," he said. "If the place is burnt down I congratulate you."
"'Tisn't!" snapped Postlethwaite.
"Well, if it 's partially burnt down all the better. They 're more ready to pay when. …"
