‘But you lose your castle.’
‘Do I so? But I get a pawn for it, and chick again.’
‘Yes,’ said Paul, ‘I see.’ He turned down his king and sat absent-eyed.
‘Ye’re falling off, Paul,’ said Armstrong, ‘or else your mind’s not on the game.’
‘To tell you the truth, sir,’ Paul returned, sitting up with a sudden sprightliness, ‘my mind’s not on the game.’
‘Where is it, lad?’
‘Well, sir, it’s in London.’ ‘London?’
‘London, sir. I can’t stop here all my days. I want to see the world.’
Armstrong rose to light his pipe at the gas. He dropped into his seat slowly, took the cat from his shoulder, and set it on his knees. The purr rose louder as he stroked lingeringly.
‘Ay!’ he said after a long pause; ‘ay, ay!’