"But I must do something," he repeated, with an air half apologetic. "I can't just let the thing go, can I?"
"You can't do anything but let it go," was the answer. "Some time you will be glad that you did let it be. Take my word for it."
Barnstable shook his head mournfully.
"Then you take away my chance," he began, "of doing something—"
He paused in evident confusion.
"Of doing something?" repeated Harbinger.
"Why, something, you know, to please—"
"Oh, to please your wife? Well, just wait. Something will turn up sooner or later. Speaking of wives, I promised Mrs. Harbinger to come home to a tea or some sort of a powwow. What time is it?"
"Yes, a small tea," Barnstable repeated with a queer look. "Pardon me, but is it too intrusive in me to ask if I may go home with you?"
Harbinger regarded him in undisguised amazement; and quivers of embarrassment spread over Barnstable's wavelike folds of throat and chin.