"By Jove, fact is, I'm a bit dusty myself. Do me good. We'll run off just as we did in the old days—good days, those. We knocked about a bit, didn't we? Good days, eh, Jack?"
Lightbody, continuing to gaze at the book, said:
"Last night—only last night! Is it possible?"
"Come, now, let's polish off Paris, or Vienna?"
"No, no." Lightbody seemed to shrink at the thought. "Not that, nothing gay. I couldn't bear to see others gay—happy."
"Quite right. California?"
"No, no, I want to get away, out of the country—far away."
Suddenly an inspiration came to De Gollyer—a memory of earlier days.
"By George, Morocco! Superb! The trip we planned out—Morocco—the very thing!"
Lightbody, at the desk still feebly fingering the leaves that he indistinctly saw, muttered: