Gerald, in response to this heartless question, led the way aimlessly down one street, up another, and on and on, Leonard trudging by his side, and neither of them speaking a word. At last Gerald stopped, and gazed pitifully around; his eyes fell upon Leonard, who, conscious that the gaze was coming, and timing it, closed his with an air of pathetic weariness.
"You are tired, Len."
Leonard instantly opened his eyes, and said briskly, "Tired, dear boy! Not a bit of it. What should make me tired? Come along, old fellow. Let's be moving."
"No, Len, I don't see much use in it."
"It is not I who say that, Gerald."
"No, it is myself. What o'clock is that striking?"
Leonard put up his finger, and they listened to the chiming of the bells.
"Two o'clock, Gerald."
"What is Emilia doing now?" murmured Gerald, more to himself than to his companion.
"She is asleep, I should say."