The other looked down at him and then at the floor, and appeared to be considering some question. Presently he looked up again and shook his head.
“I’ve been wondering whether I could bring myself to tell you my story—the story of the last two years, Bertie; and I’m sorry to say that I have come to the conclusion that I can’t. For two reasons: First, because the recital would shock you, and cause me a rather unpleasant half hour; and secondly, because the secret is not all my own. I’m only a partner.”
“Secret! There is a secret! And you—you——”
The other held up his hand.
“Take care!” he said, warningly. “My man is just outside. I beg of you not to speak my name.”
“No, no, I won’t. I will be careful,” said Bertie, flushing. “But you have a secret—Faradeane! You who were always so—so——”
“Too ‘high and proud’ for that kind of thing, you were going to say? Thanks for the compliment, my dear Bertie; but, alas! it is quite unmerited. I have a secret, and I cannot tell it to you.”
“And it is of such a character,” said Bertie, slowly, and regarding him with pained surprise, “that you feel compelled to—to——”
“Hide myself here like a poisoned rat in a hole,” put in the other, calmly. “Yes, it is. It is so bad that it has put me out of the world as completely as if I had turned hermit. The shady side of Pall Mall and I have seen the last of each other, Bertie; I have bidden good-by to the world you and I found so pleasant. Scarcely that, however, for I left it so suddenly as to leave no time for good-bys.”
“Great Heaven!” murmured Bertie, still staring up at the handsome face with its sombre, quietly resigned smile. “But—but why did you come here? Why didn’t you go abroad?”