`Aboutbusinessthatverymuchconcernsyou。’
Ilingeredlongenoughinpassingthroughthehall-doortohearthisquestionandanswer，andtoseeSirPercivalthrusthishandsintohispocketsinsullenhesitation。
`Ifyouwanttobadgermewithanymoreofyourinfernalscruples，’
hesaid，`Iforonewon’thearthem。Iwantmylunch。’
`Comeouthereandspeaktome，’repeatedtheCount，stillperfectlyuninfluencedbytherudestspeechthathisfriendcouldmaketohim。