"Hang my governor! He's the——"
Cæsar closed his lips firmly, as if he feared that terrible adjectives might burst from them. John missed the sparkling smile, the gay glance of the eyes.
"What's up?" he demanded.
Cæsar hesitated; looked at John, read, perhaps, the sympathy, the honest interest, possibly the affection, in the grey orbs which met his own so steadily.
"What's up?" he repeated. "Why, I'm not going into Damer's, after all."
"Oh!" said John.
"My governor has just told me. I came down here to curse and swear."
"Not going into Damer's? What rot—for you!"
"It is sickening. Look here, Verney; I feel like telling you about it. I know you won't go bleating all over the shop. No. I said to myself, 'Mum's the word,' but——"
John's heart beat, his body glowed, his grey eyes sparkled.