“No, I just raised my hat and walked away,” said Jack, gravely.
Leonard shrugged his shoulders.
“She will think you a boor.”
“So I am,” said Jack. “What does it matter? Tell me something about yourself. I am sick of myself. What have you been doing?”
Leonard’s pale face flushed.
“I’ve been to Cheltenham Terrace,” he said.
“Well, did you see her?”
“No,” said Leonard, sadly. “I saw that the blinds in the upper windows were down, and I went to the next door, and asked if anyone was ill.”
“Well?”
“Yes, her grandfather, old Mr. Treherne, was ill, they said, and I came away.”