Bullsom remarked, sinking
into his most comfortable chair and lighting a cigar. "Just time for a
comfortable chat. You'll smoke, Brooks, won't you?"
Brooks excused himself, and remained standing upon the hearthrug, his
elbow upon the mantelpiece. He hated this explanation he had to make.
However, it was no good in beating about the bush.
"I am going to surprise you very much, Mr. Bullsom," he began.
Mr. Bullsom took the cigar from his mouth and looked up with wide-open
eyes. He had been preparing graciously to wave away a torrent of
thanks.
"I am going to surprise you very much," Brooks repeated. "I cannot
accept this magnificent offer of yours. I cannot express my gratitude
sufficiently to you, or to the committee. Nothing would have made me
happier than to have been able to accept it. But I am absolutely
powerless."
"You don't funk it?" Mr. Bullsom asked.
"Not I. The fact is, there are circumstances connected with myself which
make it inadvisable for me to seek any public position at present."
Mr. Bullsom's first sensations of astonishment were augmented into
stupefaction.
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