“Rattled,” put in the duke, and knew who he was thinking of. He saw Miss Alicia's delicate, timid face as he spoke.
T. Tembarom laughed.
“That's just it,” he answered. “They wouldn't go back on you for worlds, but—well, you have to be careful with them.”
“He's got something on his mind,” mentally commented the duke. “He wonders if he will tell it to me.”
“And there's times when you'd give half you've got to be able to talk a thing out and put it up to some one else for a while. I could do it with her. That's why I said I wish to God that she was here.”
“You have learned to know how to keep still,” the duke said. “So have I. We learned it in different schools, but we have both learned.”
As he was saying the words, he thought he was going to hear something; when he had finished saying them he knew that he would without a doubt. T. Tembarom made a quick move in his seat; he lost a shade of color and cleared his throat as he bent forward, casting a glance at the backs of the coachman and footman on the high seat above them.
“Can those fellows hear me?” he asked.
“No,” the duke answered; “if you speak as you are speaking now.”
“You are the biggest man about here,” the young man went on. “You stand for everything that English people care for, and you were born knowing all the things I don't. I've been carrying a big load for quite a while, and I guess I'm not big enough to handle it alone, perhaps. Anyhow, I want to be sure I'm not making fool mistakes. The worst of it is that I've got to keep still if I'm right, and I've got to keep still if I'm wrong. I've got to keep still, anyhow.”