A CLASP OF HANDS
Grail approached the desk with pleasure. Egremont observed it, and met his trusty auditor with the eye-smile which made his face so agreeable.
'I am sorry to see that Mr. Ackroyd no longer sits by you,' he began. 'Has he deserted us?'
Gilbert hesitated, but spoke at length with his natural directness.
'I'm afraid so, sir.'
'He has lost his interest in the subject?'
'It's not exactly the bent of his mind. He only came at my persuasion to begin with. He takes more to science than literature.'
'Ah, I should have thought that. But I wish he could have still spared me the two hours a week. I felt much interest in him; it's a disappointment to lose him so unexpectedly. I'm sure he has a head for our matters as well as for science.'
Grail was about to speak, but checked himself. An inquiring glance persuaded him to say:
'He's much taken up with politics just now. They don't leave the mind very quiet.'