They were near home by this time, and Mayne put out his hand. “I congratulate you.”
Cecily looked at him. “On the book, you mean?”
“On everything,” he returned, gravely.
There was a moment’s silence.
“Good-night,” said Cecily as he took her latch-key and opened the hall door for her. “Thank you so much.”
CHAPTER XV
ONE day early in April, Kingslake, who was walking towards the district station at Victoria, was stopped by a man he knew slightly and would like to have known better; a man justly celebrated in the world of science and letters.
“How are you, Kingslake?” he said.
“Where are you going? I’m just on my way to you.”
Robert shook hands cordially, but looked mystified.