Leicester gave a significant whistle.
"Love," he said: "does that come in?"
"It's supposed to."
"It's one of the many illusions which still exist among a certain number of people. As for its reality——"
He shrugged his shoulders significantly, and then became quiet.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Winfield presently.
"A man's secret thoughts are sacred," replied Leicester mockingly. "Do you think my pious sentiments are for public utterance?"
Winfield rose and held out his hand.
"Good-night Leicester," he said.
"What, going to bed?"