“He apes the elder Pitt.”
But as they seemed about to begin the same incessant laughter again, Vestasian whispered to me,—
“You look tired, Genius. We will go away and visit more interesting specimens.”
Thus saying he rose and led me out—the others still remaining so intent upon these sallies that they scarcely noticed that we went.
“Have you guessed the riddle?” he asked when we were outside in the corridor through which Plucritus had first guided me.
“What riddle?”
“The riddle concerning that man?”
“As to his identity?”
He laughed.
“Oh, no. His identity is immaterial.”