“I say, there’s old Distie yonder. Where has he been? Bet twopence it was to see the gipsies and get his fortune told.”
“For a walk as far as here, perhaps, and now he is going back.”
Macey said it “seemed rum,” and they turned off then to reach Bruff’s cottage, close to the little town.
“I don’t see anything rum in it,” Vane said, quietly.
“Don’t you? Well, I do. Gilmore was stopping back to keep him company, wasn’t he? Well, where is Gilmore? And why is Distie cutting along so—at such a rate?”
Vane did not reply, and Macey turned to look at him wonderingly.
“Here! Hi! What’s the matter?”
Vane started.
“Matter?” he said, “nothing.”
“What were you thinking about? Inventing something?”