“I say, old chap, I suppose you’re in no hurry. You’ll put in a few days in Paris? We might have a day out, mightn’t we?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Charlie, and, when Deane left him, he sat on in solitude.
Was it possible that in the space of a week—? No, it was impossible. And yet, with a girl like that——.
“I did the right thing in waiting to go with her, anyhow,” said Charlie, comforting himself.
CHAPTER V. — A SECOND EDITION
“Don’t you think it’s an interesting sort of title?” inquired Lady Deane of Mr. Laing.
Laing was always a little uneasy in her presence. He felt not only that she was analyzing him, but that the results of the analysis seemed to her to be a very small residuum, of solid matter. Besides, he had been told that she had described him as a “commonplace young man,” a thing nobody could be expected to like.
“Capital!” he answered, nervously fingering his eye glass. “The Transformation of Giles Brockleton! Capital!”