There was a dead silence; and as Perry looked at his companion, he saw that his brow was full of deep lines, and that the boy’s face looked hard and set, the eyes fixed, and the lips tightened together into quite a hard crease.
Perry looked at him for a few moments, feeling pained to see the way in which the lad took his disappointment.
“I’m so sorry, Cil,” he said at last.
Cyril did not seem to have heard him, and after a pause Perry spoke again.
“Perhaps your father will give way before we go.”
“What?”
Perry started, the word sounded so sharp and harsh.
“I say perhaps he’ll give way before we go.”
“No, he won’t. He never does. Father says a thing, and means it.”
“It’s very disappointing,” said Perry, “but it’s of no use to fret.”