"Bless us!" said Varney urbanely. "It's the student of manners again."
The pale young stranger stopped two paces away and gave back his look with the utmost composure.
"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones—"though I doubt," he added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you."
"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?"
"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow morning—you and your ferocious friend."
Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat—er—precipitate?"
"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany, that you were a great fool to come back at all."
"Beany!"
"You don't mind if I sit down?"
A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and leaned back against the store-front.