"Oh! oh! oh! she's sitting at Carrel's!"
"Who's sitting at Carrel's?"
"Trilby! sitting to all those ruffians! There she was, just as I opened the door; I saw her, I tell you! The sight of her was like a blow between the eyes, and I bolted! I shall never go back to that beastly hole again! I'm off to Barbizon, to paint the forest; I was coming round to tell you. Good-bye!..."
"Stop a minute—are you mad?" said Taffy, collaring him.
"Let me go, Taffy—let me go, damn it! I'll come back in a week—but I'm going now! Let me go; do you hear?"
"But look here—I'll go with you."
"No; I want to be alone—quite alone. Let me go, I tell you!"
"I sha'n't let you go unless you swear to me, on your honor, that you'll write directly, you get there, and every day till you come back. Swear!"
"All right; I swear—honor bright! Now there! Good-bye—good-bye; back on Sunday—good-bye!" And he was off.
"Now, what the devil does all that mean?" asked Taffy, much perturbed.