‘For heaven’s sake, do not sing that song any more!’ cried Greif. ‘I am sad enough, as it is, without your cat’s music.’
Rex laughed oddly.
‘I am as sad as you,’ he said, a moment later, with an abrupt change of manner. ‘You do not act as though you were,’ observed Greif. ‘What are you sad about?’
‘World-sorrow.’
‘Has the vortex fallen ill?’ inquired Greif ironically.
‘It is likely to, I fear. Come along! It is time to be off. You must not keep everybody waiting.’
Something in the tone of his voice struck Greif and affected him disagreeably. He held up the light to Rex’s face, and saw that he was pale, and that his strange eyes looked weary and lifeless.
‘What is the matter, Rex?’ he asked earnestly. ‘Are you in any trouble? Can I do anything for you?’
‘Nothing, thank you,’ answered the other quietly.
Greif set down the lamp upon the table and seemed to hesitate a moment. Then he turned again and laid his hand upon his friend’s arm.