“It’s queer how things come about,” said Barclay, reflectively.
“I think you will have to excuse me,” said Paul, “for I am sent on an errand, and it won’t do for me to stop.”
“Where are you bound?”
“To the Astor House.”
“Are you going to walk?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will go with you, if you don’t mind.”
Paul was by no means desirous of Barclay’s company, but there seemed no way to shake him off. The street was free to all.
“You can come with me if you like,” he said.
“Then I’ll go. I’ve got something to say to you. But first I’ll say that I don’t bear any ill will against you for what you did the other night. You only did your duty.”