The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. "Perhaps he means well. " "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. ’ ‘Nonsense, it’ll give Pottiswick something genuine to complain about,’ said Gerald cheerfully, moving to the edge of the trees. Or felt it. He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses. “May I hear?” “It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. You would not have the slightest difficulty.
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