He said it with an open glance at his friend. But it found no responsive one. Brother Bonaday's brow had contracted, as with a spasm of the old pain, and his eyes still scrutinised the trailing weeds in Mere river.
"If ever a man had warning to be done with life," said Brother Bonaday after a long pause, "I had it this forenoon. But it's wonderful what silly hopes a child will breed in a man."
Brother Copas nodded.
"Aye, we'll have a shot with her. But—Oh, good Lord! Here's the Chaplain coming."
"Ah, Copas—so here you are!" sung out Mr. Colt as he approached with his long stride up the tow-path. "Nurse Branscome told me I should find you here. Good evening, Bonaday!"
He nodded.
Copas stood up and inclined his body stiffly.
"I hope, sir," was his rebuke, "I have not wholly forfeited the title of Brother?"
The Chaplain flushed.
"I bring a message," he said. "The Master wishes to see you, at half-past six."