Arbuthnot came back.
"What is it?" he asked.
There was a curious pause, which, though it lasted scarcely longer than a second, was still a pause.
"If I go," said Tredennis, "it will be easier to explain my absence to the professor." And then there was a pause again, and each man looked at the other, and each was a trifle pale.
It was Arbuthnot who spoke first.
"I think," he said, without moving a muscle, "that you had better let me go."
"Why?" said Tredennis, and the unnatural quality of his voice startled himself.
"Because," said Arbuthnot, as calmly as before, "you will be conferring a favor on me, if you do. I want an excuse for getting out of town, and—I want an opportunity to be of some slight service to Mrs. Amory."
Before the dignity of the stalwart figure towering above his slighter proportions he knew he appeared to no advantage as he said the words; but to have made the best of himself he must have relinquished his point at the outset, and this he had no intention of doing, though he was not enjoying himself. A certain cold-blooded pertinacity which he had acquired after many battles with himself was very useful to him at the moment.