Milbanke, who was close behind him, glanced up. He saw his host's face more clearly than he had seen it in the hall. His answer when it came was hurried and a little confused.
"No, Denis. No," he said. "Nothing; nothing, I assure you."
Asshlin laughed again.
"Still the same stickler?" he said. "How virtues cling to a man!"
He turned and began to mount the stairs. Then, reaching the first door on the wide corridor, he paused.
"Here's your habitation," he said. "Burke will bring up your belongings and get you whatever you want. We dine in a quarter of an hour."
He nodded; and was turning away, when a fresh thought struck him.
"You may as well take this candle," he said; "we haven't arrived at the civilisation of gas. You might stumble over something, looking for the matches. This is practically a bachelor establishment, you know—without any bachelor comforts."
Once more he laughed; and, thrusting the candle into his guest's hand, hurried away across the landing.
In silence Milbanke took the candle and, holding it uncertainly, waited until his host had disappeared. Then slowly he turned and entered the large, bare bedroom. For a moment he hesitated, his eyes wandering from the faded window-hangings to the stiff, old-fashioned furniture. Finally, laying aside the candlestick, he sat down upon the side of the forbidding-looking four-post bedstead.