Cloete would come in to have his chop and make the girl laugh.

No need to talk much, either, for that.

Nothing but the way he would twinkle his spectacles on you and give a twitch of his thick mouth was enough to start you off before he began one of his little tales.
Funny fellow, Cloete.

C-l-o-e-t-e--Cloete." "What was he--a Dutchman ?" I asked, not seeing in the least what all this had to do with the Westport boatmen and the Westport summer visitors and this extraordinary old fellow's irritable view of them as liars and fools.

"Devil knows," he grunted, his eyes on the wall as if not to miss a single movement of a cinematograph picture.