The noise almost drowned the question but Sir Charles heard.
"Well, not exactly. She appears complaisant, as it were," he answered. "But really, I shouldn't have mentioned the matter at all; quite premature, you understand. Let's say no more about it. And--what was it you said about going back with me?"
"Yes," said John Steele with a sudden strength and energy that Sir Charles might attribute to the desire to make himself understood above the din of the street. "I'll go back with you at"--the latter words, lower spoken, the other did not catch--"no matter what cost!"
Sir Charles dodged a vehicle; he did not observe the light, the fire, the sudden play of fierce, dark passion on his companion's face.
"Good!" he said. "And when you get tired of 'books in the running brooks'--"
Steele's hand closed on his arm. "When do you leave?" he asked abruptly.
"To-day--to-morrow--Suit your convenience."
"Let it be to-day, then! To-day!"
Sir Charles looked at him quickly; John Steele's face recovered its composure.
"I believe I have become weary of what your niece calls the 'dusty byways,'" he explained with a forced laugh.