"No, nothing at the moment," Arthur said. "I've been helping a friend down in Peckham, but I've chucked that for the time being."
"Loose end? What?" Turner inquired.
"Got some notion of going to Canada," Arthur said.
Turner pursed his mouth and looked down at his neat patent-leather shoes. "Fine climate and splendid opportunities there," he commented softly. "Free, open-air life and all that sort of thing. Just suit a vigorous young chap like you, I should say."
Hubert Kenyon, who had been gloomily listening to the conversation without attempting to join in it, drew a long breath and exhaled it in a deep sigh.
"That how you feel about it?" Arthur inquired.
"I? Oh! How d'you mean?" Hubert asked.
"Blowing a bit, weren't you, at the mention of Canada?" Arthur said.
"Oh! That! I don't know," Hubert replied, without throwing much light on the meaning of his sigh.
The conversation was dropping again. Arthur felt the silence coming, and did not care. He was a guest and it was the family's duty to entertain him. But what was the matter with them all? Or with him?