"I will have it now," rejoined Trenchard, "or our agreement is void. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. The door was fastened by a catch and a latch with an inside key, to which at night a chain and two bolts were added. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were reared in the Vatican.
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