Anthony was startled by the quick question, and replied almost nervously:—
“Nobody in particular—why should I?”
“I don't know why, but I think you do.”
“People one knows cross the channel every night almost.”
“Of course,” Sergius said indifferently.
He glanced towards the clock and again mechanically his hand went up, for a second, to his left breast. Anthony leaned forward in his chair quickly, and broke into speech. He had seen the stare at the clock-face, the gesture.
“It's strange,” he said, “how people go out of our lives, how friends go, and enemies!”
“Enemies!”
“Yes. I sometimes wonder which exit is the sadder. When a friend goes—with him goes, perhaps for ever, the chance of saying ‘I am your friend.’ When an enemy goes—”
“Well, what then?”