He still carried his arm in a sling, but, excepting this, the Viscount was himself again, Bright-eyed, smiling and debonair. But now, as Peterby withdrew, and Barnabas turned to greet him, gravely polite—he hesitated, frowned, and seemed a little at a loss.
"Egad!" said he ruefully, "it seems a deuce of a time since we saw each other, Beverley."
"A fortnight!" said Barnabas.
"And it's been a busy fortnight for both of us, from what I hear."
"Yes, Viscount."
"Especially for—you."
"Yes, Viscount."
"Beverley," said he, staring very hard at the toe of his varnished shoe, "do you remember the white-haired man we met, who called himself an Apostle of Peace?"
"Yes, Viscount."
"Do you remember that he said it was meant we should be—friends?"