“Well—he needn't have called Wood names—that's true.”
“If you're going to laugh about it, you can go away!”
“'Instigator of crime,' isn't so strong as 'thief,' is it? It's a pity they can't get along without blackguarding each other, but probably they can't.”
Camilla turned away. Her indignation was too genuine, and sobered him.
“My dear girl! I don't suppose Wood was properly called a 'thief' nor Aidee 'an instigator of crime.' Probably Aidee believes what he says. Probably Carroll hasn't the remotest idea what he believes. What of it? I've been tramping the wilderness of Port Argent all day and seeing visions, Milly, and I'd rather not quarrel. Did Aidee say he was going to do anything in particular?”
“He said he was going to see Mr. Hicks.”
“What!”
“To see Mr. Hicks to-night. Of course he'll go to comfort someone that nobody else will,” cried Camilla breathlessly, “and of course you'll say he'd be wiser to keep away and nurse his reputation, because people will talk. Perhaps you think it proves he's an anarchist, and makes bombs.”
“You go too fast for me.” He thought he did not dislike Aidee so much that he would not have stopped his going to see Hicks, if he could. He was not quite clear why he disliked him at all.
It was a turn of mind, characteristic of the Hennions, somewhat of the grimly philosophical, which set him to thinking next that Aidee's situation now, in the whitewashed cell with the alias Hicks, must be confusing and not pleasant, that his own situation was vastly more comfortable, and that these, on the whole, were not bad situations.