He laughed, but in a tone totally different from the merry peal which had once brought a smile from lips now buried out of sight.
“Honest with you?” He muttered; but rose as he said this and reached for his overcoat, to the astonishment of the waiter advancing to serve us.
Laying a coin on the table, I rose to my feet and in a few minutes we were both in the street, walking I knew not where, for I was not so well acquainted with the city as he, and was quite willing to follow where he led.
Meantime we were silent, his breath coming quickly and mine far from equable. I was glad when we paused, but surprised that it was in the middle of a quiet block with a high boarded fence running half its length, against which he took his stand, as he said:
“Why go further? You have seen my misery and you want to talk. Talk about what? Our uncle’s death? You know more about that than I do; and more about the will, too, I am ready to take my oath. And you want to talk! talk! You—”
“No names, Edgar. You heard what I said at the inquest. I can but repeat every word of denial which I uttered then. You may find it hard to believe me or you may be just amusing yourself with me for some purpose which I find it hard to comprehend. I am willing it should be either, if you will be plain with me and say your say. For I am quite aware, however you may seek to hide it, that there is something you wish me to know; something that would clear the road between us; something which it would be better for you to speak and for me to hear than this fruitless interchange of meaningless words which lead nowhere and bring small comfort.”
“What do you mean?” He was ghastly white or the pale gleam from the opposite lamp-post was very deceptive. “I don’t know what you mean,” he repeated, stepping forward from the closely boarded fence that I might not see how he was shaking.
“I am very sorry,” I began; then abruptly, “I am sure that you do know what I mean, but if you prefer silence,—prefer things to go on as they are, I will try and bear it, hoping that some of these mysteries may be cleared up and confidence restored again between us, if only for Orpha’s sake. You must wish that too.”
“Orpha!” He spoke the word strangely, almost mechanically. There was no thought behind the utterance. Then as he looked up and met my eye, the color came into his cheeks and he cried:
“Do not remind me of all that I have lost. Uncle, fortune, love. I am poorer than a beggar, for he—”