Quayle came into the room without knocking. He had his topee in his hand. Fells saw that he was very bald but with a well-shaped head that made his baldness look almost suitable. For a moment Fells forgot his own misery because he was interested in the man. The tall figure, with the composed, almost smiling, face, radiated something that might have been confidence or cheerfulness. Fells wondered if this was some clever lawyer that the old man had got hold of—somebody who might make things a bit easier. He said:
"Good-afternoon...." He stopped then, because there didn't seem anything else to say. In any event, Fells thought, he wasn't going to be interested.
Quayle said: "I won't waste a lot of your time— not that time means anything to you at the moment. The point is I haven't a great de
