"Not burnt at all!" snarled Mr. Postlethwaite loudly. "Broken! Destroyed! Smashed! Went there this morning! Didn't find anybody!"
"They 'd gone out?" said Mr. Kirby, with a look of aquiline cunning.
"No one anywhere! Nothing anywhere! No one on the ground floor! No one first floor! No one top floor! No one in the studio! But there! Smashed! Broken! Destroyed!"
"What was?" said Mr. Kirby, beginning to be irritated as he thought of the possible delay to his lunch.
"What?" shouted Mr. Postlethwaite, "everything I tell you! Skylight, chairs, everything. Broken chair in the garden with a lot of sheets tied on. Damned foolery! Broken chairs, broken glass, empty bottle, beastly dirty mess of food. Now," he added, with rising passion, "I 'll have the law on this, and it 's you who did it, Kirby, it 's you persuaded me!"
"Mr. Postlethwaite," said Mr. Kirby quietly, "what I did try to persuade you was to spend a little money on the place. As you wouldn't, and as a tramp wouldn't look at it, I advised you to let it to those young
