Mrs. Seton-Carr professed accord in the opinion of Masters' dulness; the sea voyage had not improved him. Society was not the thing he shone in; in fact, she had found him rather depressing; was glad he left so early. Lies! Lies—each and every one of the opinions she expressed.
The two men who had left the bungalow walked along the Parade for a time without speaking. Each was full of emotion. Dick's found vent first; he blurted out:
"I'm—I'm awfully sorry, old man!"
There was a faint tinge of nervousness in Masters' responding laugh; he was not a man to assimilate pity very well, even his best friends'. Throwing away the cigar, which had gone out, he lighted his pipe; the match betrayed a shaking hand.
"Thanks.... Cloudless night; looks like being a fine day to-morrow, doesn't it?"
The effort to change the subject proved futile; Dick spoke impulsively:
"Hang the weather!... You don't think I knew anything of this, dear old chap——"
"No! No!"
"—or you know I should have——"
"Yes, yes. I know."