For a long moment M'Ginnis stood motionless, staring back at that desolate plot of ground; when at last he glanced toward his companion, Soapy was lighting a fresh cigarette.
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS
In the rose garden was an arbour smothered in riotous bloom, and in the arbour was a divan, wide and low and voluptuously soft, meet for the repose of an invalid on a languorous afternoon, or indeed any other time. But just now the invalid reposed not at all but sat, elbow on knee and square chin on fist, very lonely and therefore very grim.
All about him roses bloomed, filling the air with their sweetness, but he had no eyes for their beauty; upon the table within reach of his hand were books and magazines, but he was in no mood for reading; clasped between strong white teeth he held his favourite pipe unlighted and cold, for tobacco had for him no savour. So he sat and scowled at the universe in general, and in particular at a robin that had boldly ventured near and was regarding him with a very round, bright eye.
"She's avoiding me!" said Ravenslee bitterly, teeth clenched upon his pipestem, "there's no doubt about it, damn it; she's avoiding me! And she's not happy here either!"
The robin turned his head to regard the speaker with his other eye, then fluttered his wings and flew away as the lazy quiet of the afternoon was broken by the squeak of shoe leather, and glancing up, Ravenslee beheld the Old Un.
"What cheer, Guv," said he, "greetin's doo and how's the invalid?"
"Invalid!" repeated Ravenslee, scowling again, "I'm no invalid!"