“What are we waiting for?” he asked, good humoredly, addressing the back of the stranger's head.
The man turned, displaying a genial face, a red mustache, and an eye-glass.
“Hullo, Chilcote!” he said. “Hope it's not on your feet I'm standing.”
Loder laughed. “No,” he said. “And don't change the position. If you were an inch higher I should be blind as well as crippled.”
The other laughed. It was a pleasant surprise to find Chilcote amiable under discomfort. He looked round again in slight curiosity.
Loder felt the scrutiny. To create a diversion he looked out along the corridor. “I believe we are waiting for something,” he exclaimed. “What's this?” Then quite abruptly be ceased to speak.
“Anything interesting?” Eve touched his arm.
He said nothing; he made no effort to look round. His thought as well as his speech was suddenly suspended.
The man in front of him let his eye-glass fall from his eye, then screwed it in again.
“Jove!” he exclaimed. “Here comes our sorceress. It's like the progress of a fairy princess. I believe this is the meaning of our getting penned in here,” he chuckled delightedly.