He paused meaningly.
“Yes,” said Graham thoughtfully. “There is.”
“Ah! Now! We have treated you neglectfully.”
“The crowds in yonder streets of yours.”
“That,” said Howard, “I am afraid—. But—”
Graham began pacing the room. Howard stood near the door watching him. The implication of Howard’s suggestion was only half evident to Graham Company? Suppose he were to accept the proposal, demand some sort of company? Would there be any possibilities of gathering from the conversation of this additional person some vague inkling of the struggle that had broken out so vividly at his waking moment? He meditated again, and the suggestion took colour. He turned on Howard abruptly.
“What do you mean by company?”
Howard raised his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Human beings,” he said, with a curious smile on his heavy face.
“Our social ideas,” he said, “have a certain increased liberality, perhaps, in comparison with your times. If a man wishes to relieve such a tedium as this—by feminine society, for instance. We think it no scandal. We have cleared our minds of formulae. There is in our city a class, a necessary class, no longer despised—discreet—”
Graham stopped dead.