His laugh was forced, feverish, and unnatural. Hawbury didn't like it, and tried to change the subject.
"Oh, by-the-way," said he, "you needn't have any further trouble about any of them. You don't seem inclined to take any definite action, so the action will be taken for you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that they are all going to leave Naples."
"To leave Naples!"
Dacres uttered this in a voice of grief and surprise which astonished Hawbury and touched him.
"Yes," he said. "You know they've been here long enough. They want to see Rome. Holy-week, you know. No end of excitement. Illumination of St. Peter's, and all that sort of thing, you know."
Dacres relapsed into sombre silence. For more than half an hour he did not say a word. Hawbury respected his mood, and watched him with something approaching to anxiety.
"Hawbury," said he at last.
"Well, old man?"