“I don’t like going off like this,” grumbled Glyddyr; “it looks as if I were being scared away.”
“Well, that is curious,” said Gellow, with mock seriousness.
“And it’s like retreating from the field and leaving it to Lisle.”
“Who the deuce is Lisle?”
“Eh? A man I know. Had a bit of a quarrel with him,” said Glyddyr hastily.
“Quarrel? What about?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing.”
Gellow talked in a light, bantering strain, but behind the mask of lightness he assumed, a keen observer would have noticed that he was all on the strain to notice everything, and he noted that there was something under Glyddyrs careless way of turning the subject aside.
“Rival, of course,” thought Gellow.
They were walking down toward the pier, and as they neared the sea Glyddyrs pace grew slower, and his indecision more marked.