"It is," said Nicky solemnly.
After all, it argued some divine compensation somewhere that a thing so destitute should remain unaware of its destitution, that a creature so futile and diminutive should be sustained by this conviction of his greatness. For he was certain. Nothing could annihilate the illusion by which Nicky lived. But it was enough to destroy all certainty in anybody else, and there were moments when the presence of Nicky had this shattering effect on Jane. She could not have faced him until Hambleby was beyond his power to slay.
But Nicky, so far from enlarging on his certainty, meditated with his eyes fixed on the clock.
"You don't dine, do you," he said suddenly, "till half-past seven?"
"You'll stay, won't you?"
"I think I mustn't, thanks. I only wanted to know how long I had."
"You've really half-an-hour, if you won't dine."
"I say, you're not expecting anybody else?"
"I didn't expect Mr. Brodrick. I've kept everybody out so long that they've left off coming."
"I wonder," said he, still meditating, "if I've come too soon."