“Don’t hold me responsible for him,” I said. “You see what he is.”
“Renny,” said Duke, gravely, “I see that friendship is impossible to him, and can understand in a measure what he made you suffer.”
“Yet, I think, it’s true that he’s of the sort whom fortune always favors.”
“They sign a compact in blood for it, though, as the wicked baron does in the story books.”
He smiled and we both fell silent. Presently Duke said from the darkness:
“Where has he put up in London?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say. I’m not particularly anxious to find out as long as he keeps away from here.”
“Ah, as long as he does,” said my companion, and sunk into a pondering fit again.
“Get off early to-morrow,” he said, suddenly. “What time have you arranged to—to meet Dolly?”
“Half-past nine, Duke.”