"I shouldn't care to risk it," I returned, and asked Hubert, who had been walking aimlessly round the room, if he was ready.
We left at last, and were pursued down-stairs by volleys of apologies. I had to stop twice and shout back that I was not offended and that I forgave everything, though from the way I had talked to him it struck me that he had about as much to forgive as I had.
We walked towards Victoria without speaking, and when I did try to talk I was most horribly hoarse, I must have fairly shouted at the Professor.
"My father's often like that after an afternoon off," Owen said presently. "He's first angry and then apologetic, and in the end he's most horribly ashamed of himself. Wednesday afternoon is his worst time, and I generally try to be with him and then he's all right, but I got stopped to-day. He comes down to my aunt's on Sundays, though he hates it."
"I believe he would like my uncle, he wouldn't jaw and cant."
"Do as you like. I've never thanked you, except in letters, for seeing me through that illness."
"How are you now?"
"All right; I feel as if I have been ill, that's all."
"You've got to come down to Worcestershire," I said; "a fortnight there will do you more good than years of West Ham."
"I can't do that," he answered at once.