‘I thought I’d just see if you’d got straight,’ said Joseph Snowdon, entering with his genial smile.
Sidney made no reply, but turned as if to stir the fire. Hands in pockets, Joseph sauntered to a seat.
‘Think you’ll be comfortable here?’ he went on. ‘Well, well; of course it’s only temporary.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ returned Sidney. ‘I may stay here as long as I was at the last place—eight years.’
Joseph laughed, with exceeding good-nature.
‘Oh yes; I shouldn’t wonder,’ he said, entering into the joke. ‘Still’—becoming serious—‘I wish you’d found a pleasanter place. With the winter coming on, you see—’
Sidney broke in with splenetic perversity.
‘I don’t know that I shall pass the winter here. My arrangements are all temporary—all of them.’
After glancing at him the other crossed his legs and seemed to dispose himself for a stay of some duration.
‘You didn’t turn up the other night—in Hanover Street.’