'I shall take this away with me,' pursued the other, laughing. 'It'll be worth a little study.'
'My dear fellow—you won't take it ill of me—I didn't really mean it as a criticism,' the deep, musical voice stammered in serious embarrassment.
'Why, wasn't it just this kind of thing that caused a quarrel between
George Sand and Musset?'
'Yes, yes; but George Sand was such a peremptory fellow, and Musset such a vapourish young person. Look! I'll show you what I meant.'
'Thanks,' said Munden, 'I can find that out for myself.' He thrust the book into his coat-pocket. 'I came to ask you if you are aware of your uncle's condition.'
'Of course I am.
'When did you see him last?'
'See him?' Shergold's eyes wandered vaguely. 'Oh, to talk with him, about a month ago.'
'Did you part friendly?'
'On excellent terms. And last night I went to ask after him. Unfortunately he didn't know any one, but the nurse said he had been mentioning my name, and in a kind way.'