“If I do, it's with no shame for the part you assign us.”
“That's as it may be. There may be up there amongst the stars a planet where your ideas would be the right thing. Maybe Doctor Cumming knows of such a place. I can only say Tom Cutbill does n't, nor don't want to.”
For a while neither spoke a word; the conversation had taken a half-irritable tone, and it was not easy to say how it was to be turned into a pleasanter channel.
“Any news of Jack?” asked Cutbill, suddenly.
“Nothing since he sailed.”
Another and a longer pause ensued, and it was evident neither knew how to break the silence.
“These ain't bad cigars,” said Cutbill, knocking the ash off his cheroot with his finger. “You get them here?”
“Yes; they are very cheap.”
“Thirty, or thirty-five centimes?”
“Ten!”