“I shall have to go very soon,” he said.
“You can't. Just listen to the rain.”
“Rain! What's that got to do with it?”
Sergius spoke with a sudden unutterable contempt.
“Ring for another bottle of champagne,” Anthony replied. “This one is empty.”
“Well—for a parson and a teetotaller, I must say!”
Sergius rang the bell. A second bottle was opened. The servant went out of the room. As he closed the door, the wind sighed harshly against the window panes, driving the rain before it.
“Rough at sea to-night,” Anthony said.
The remark was an obvious one; but, as spoken, it sounded oddly furtive, and full of hidden meaning. Sergius evidently found it so, for he said:
“Why, whom d'you know that's going to sea to-night?”