In another moment Mr. Reginald Townsend appeared upon the threshold of the door.
"A trifle slow to-night, Pendarvon--eh?"
Mr. Pendarvon admitted the soft impeachment.
"I'm afraid that this time, perhaps, I am. You've caught me napping. I was just putting the things in order when you came."
"Putting the things in order! I see. The things want putting in order, Pendarvon--eh?"
"There is a certain amount of work which has to be done, which, of course, by virtue of my office"--this with a sneer which, perhaps, the speaker found it impossible to suppress--"I have to do."
"By virtue of your office; yes." Mr. Pendarvon looked up at Mr. Townsend, only, as it were, by accident and for a moment; then his glance went back again. "It would be a fine night if it were not for the mist which is in the air. One now and then can get peeps at the stars beyond. But this mist gives me a chill."
"It's warm enough in here."
"Oh, yes, it's sufficiently warm in here."
In each man's manner there was something which was distinctly out of the ordinary, and the strangest part of it was that, though each was, as a rule, as keen an observer as one might easily meet, neither seemed to realise that there was anything unusual in the bearing of the other. Mr. Pendarvon was restless, fidgety, fussy, continually on the watch for something to happen, not in the room, but out of it. He was like a person who has an appointment of the first importance, and who is devoured with anxiety lest the individual with whom he has the appointment should fail to keep it. Mr. Townsend's mood, on the other hand, seemed almost transcendental. His physical beauty, uncommon both in type and in degree, seemed to-night to have positively increased. It was almost startling. He seemed, too, to have increased in height. He bore himself with an unconscious grace which displayed his splendid figure to singular advantage. His head was thrown a little back from his shoulders, and in his eyes and in the whole expression of his face there was something which suggested rapturous calm. One felt that, whatever happened, this man's mind would be at ease. He recalled the soldier who, having volunteered for a forlorn hope, advances to meet death, and worse than death, with a smile.