The Winged Beetle

MR TODD 179 DELHOMME. Good morning, Mr. Ossory. Anything I can do, of course ; anything I can do. OSSORY. Thank you, my dear lad. Anything you can do, of course—I will let you know at once. By the way, you haven’t asked her yet, I suppose ? DELHOMME. Not yet, sir. I am rather diffident : I do not care to precipitate affairs. OSSORY. Well, I am really very anxious to see her future assured. And you know our proverb, “ The early bird catches the worm.” [Points to him, and over his shoulder to her.] There’s our scientific friend, eh ? DELHOMME. Oh, I’m not afraid of him. A “ farceur,” no more, though sometimes a pleasant one. OSSORY. Tu t’en f——, ça, mon vieux chameau ? Quoi ? DELHOMME. [very disgusted at OSSORY’S vulgarity, which mistakes argot for chic]. Well, sir, as soon as I can find a favourable opportunity—— OSSORY. Grief is a good mood to catch them in, my boy. I know ! I know ! I’ve been a bit of a dog in my time. [Shakes hands as they go out. DELHOMME. [returning]. One word in your ear, sir, if I may. It’s purely instinctive—but—but—well, sir, I mis- trust that man Todd ! OSSORY. Thanks : I believe you may be right. DELHOMME. Good-bye, sir ! OSSORY. Good-bye. MRS. OSSORY [rising]. Alfred, that man is a devil ! OSSORY. What, little Delhomme ? MRS. OSSORY. Of course not, Alfred. How can you be so silly ? Todd !