Morris had looked at him for a moment with incredulous eyes. Then he had sat down and covered his face with his hands.
"It's nothing," he said at length. "I felt rather faint. I shall be better in a minute. Of course I'll drive you back."
He sat huddled up with hidden face for a moment or two. Mr. Taynton said nothing, but only looked at him. Then the boy sat up.
"I'm all right," he said, "it was just a dream I had last night. No, I have not seen Mills; they tell me he left yesterday afternoon for Brighton. Shall we go?"
For some little distance they went in silence; then it seemed that Morris made an effort and spoke.
"Really, I got what they call 'quite a turn' just now," he said. "I had a curiously vivid dream last night about that corner, and you suddenly appeared in my dream quite unexpectedly, as you did just now."
"And what was this dream?" asked Mr. Taynton, turning up his coat collar, for the wind of their movement blew rather shrilly on to his neck.
"Oh, nothing particular," said Morris carelessly, "the vividness was concerned with your appearance; that was what startled me."
Then he fell back into the train of thought that had occupied him all the way down from London.
"I believe I was half-mad with rage last night," he said at length, "but this afternoon, I think I am beginning to be sane again. It's true Mills tried to injure me, but he didn't succeed. And as you said last night I have too deep and intense a cause of happiness to give my thoughts and energies to anything so futile as hatred or the desire for revenge. He is punished already. The fact of his having tried to injure me like that was his punishment. Anyhow, I am sick and tired of my anger."