A long silence, then Jim stood up.
"Well, I've made an utter mess of it, as I began by saying!" he said, with a grim laugh. "Going to dine here, Rich? Let's eat together. Here"—one big clever hand gave Richard just the help he needed—"let me help you, old boy!"
"I thought I'd go home to Mill Valley," Richard said. "I can't catch anything before the six-forty, but the horse is in the village, and my boy will scare me up some soup and a salad. I'd rather go. I like to wake in my own place."
"I wish you'd let me go with you, Rich," Jim said, with a gentleness new to him. "I'm so sick of everything. I can't think of anything I'd like so well."
"Sure, come along," Richard said, touched. "Everything's pretty simple, you know, but I'll telephone Bruce and have him—"
"Cut out the telephoning," Jim interrupted. "Bread and coffee'll do. And a fire, huh?"
"Sure," Richard said again, "there's always a fire."
"Great!" Jim approved. "We can smoke, and talk about—"
"About Ju," Richie supplied, with a gruff little laugh, as he paused.
"About Ju," Jim repeated, with a long sigh.