Both men stared at him.
“Give him a message?” they cried simultaneously. “How will you give him a message?”
Basil smiled in his slow way.
“If you really want to know how I shall give him your message,” he began, but Bingham cried:
“Of course, of course,” with a sort of frenzy.
“Well,” said Basil, “like this.” And he suddenly sprang a foot into the air, coming down with crashing boots, and then stood on one leg.
His face was stern, though this effect was slightly spoiled by the fact that one of his feet was making wild circles in the air.
“You drive me to it,” he said. “You drive me to betray my friend. And I will, for his own sake, betray him.”
The sensitive face of Bingham took on an extra expression of distress as of one anticipating some disgraceful disclosure. “Anything painful, of course—” he began.
Basil let his loose foot fall on the carpet with a crash that struck them all rigid in their feeble attitudes.