Barry, feeling that he was expected to say something, said, “By Jove! Really?”
“In various positions,” continued Milton. “All ruined.”
“Not really?” said Barry.
“There was one of Little Tich—”
But Barry felt unequal to playing the part of chorus any longer. It was all very thrilling, but, if Milton was going to run through the entire list of his destroyed photographs, life would be too short for conversation on any other topic.
“I say, Milton,” he said, “it was about that that I came. I’m sorry—”
Milton sat up.
“It wasn’t you who did this, was it?”
“No, no,” said Barry, hastily.
“Oh, I thought from your saying you were sorry—”