“A girl or a boy?”
“A girl—worse luck still.” And he said it with such contempt that the other’s laugh was perhaps excusable.
“You’re in for it and no mistake. If I am any judge you won’t get on very well.” And the spirit Virginius alone saw the steady, penetrating, sidelong glance that accompanied Plucritus’s idle words.
“No,” rejoined Genius.
“It’s ridiculous. You have made a mistake.”
“I never make mistakes,” replied the other, drily.
The blood-red ring gleamed scarlet.
“Never? Did you say never?”
“Yes. What a beastly night. That moon looks as sickly as the baby.”
“It is a glorious night.” Virginius spoke for the first time.