Mr. Robinson laughed. "Well, I suppose I must make up my mind to be off, else my wife and daughter will be wondering what has become of me."
Wyndham came forward hurriedly. "I hope I have not been keeping you," he murmured. Somehow he did not like being left alone now. The old man's coming had saved him for the time being from the clutch of a terrible despair, and he saw it waiting to descend swiftly on him. The half-hour of self-respect would vanish like an illusion.
But Mr. Robinson's voice was breaking in on his mood again.
"Would it be presuming too much on our slight acquaintance if I suggested——" The old man hesitated with an evident shyness that was very winning.
"Pray suggest anything you like," said Wyndham.
Thus encouraged, Mr. Robinson launched out boldly. "Would you come home and dine with us—quite without ceremony. We're the simplest of people, but we shall offer you the heartiest of welcomes."
"That is very kind of you," said Wyndham. "I should not be deranging your household?"
"I am sure my wife and daughter will be as delighted to see you as I am. Will you not come home with me now—in a simple, friendly way?"
"Since I am to meet ladies," smiled Wyndham, "I should like to make myself presentable. I have just been across town, and in this filthy, murky atmosphere one gets to feel so utterly unclean."
"Oh, yes; am I not in the same plight myself?" smiled Mr. Robinson.