"Good!" said Tommy heartily. "But aren't you going to show at the Club House? Aren't you going to dance?"
Monck tossed down his lighted match and set his heel on it. "I'm keeping my dancing for to-morrow," he said. "The best man always has more than enough of that."
Tommy made a gloomy sound that was like a groan and began to descend the steps by his side. They walked several paces along the dim road in silence; then quite suddenly he burst into impulsive speech.
"I'll tell you what it is, Monck!"
"I shouldn't," said Monck.
Tommy checked abruptly, looking at him oddly, uncertainly. "How do you know what I was going to say?" he demanded.
"I don't," said Monck.
"I believe you do," said Tommy, unconvinced.
Monck blew forth a cloud of smoke and laughed in his brief, rather grudging way. "You're getting quite clever for a child of your age," he observed. "But don't overdo it, my son! Don't get precocious!"
Tommy's hand grasped his arm confidentially. "Monck, if I don't speak out to someone, I shall bust! Surely you don't mind my speaking out to you!"