"How queer you look, Carew!" he exclaimed. "Are you ill?"
"Ill—no, not at all; but worried—worried almost out of my life," replied Carew wildly, throwing himself into a chair, and putting his face between his hands.
Allen sat in a chair opposite to him, refilled and lit his pipe, and, as he smoked, gazed at his friend with feelings of perplexed compassion.
"Have a pipe, old fellow; there is nothing like a pipe for worry."
"A pipe?" cried Carew, with contemptuous bitterness. "No; but have you some brandy? Give me some brandy."
"Certainly, Carew," and the barrister produced a spirit-case, some glasses, and water.
Carew poured a quantity of spirit into a glass and drank it neat. He was usually a temperate man.
"That is not the way to clear one's brain for confronting one's troubles," remarked Allen.
"No, you are right. It is foolish of me. Allen, I have come to say that I shall be very glad to accompany you on your cruise."
"I am delighted to hear that. A good blow in the North Sea will do you good, if your mind is so upset."