Dick got up presently and began to walk about, eyeing the pictures and the books.
"Want to turn in?" asked the cleric.
"Well, I think, as we've an early start—"
The clergyman jumped up.
"You've a beastly little room, I'm afraid. We're rather full up. And you, Mr. Kirkby!"
"I'll wait till you come back," he said.
The two went out, after good-nights, and Jack was left staring at the fire.
He felt very wide-awake, and listened contentedly to the dying noises of the streets. Somewhere in that hive outside was Frank—old Frank. That was very good to think of....
During these last months Frank's personality had been very persistently before him. It was not that he pretended to understand him in the very least; but he understood enough now to feel that there was something very admirable in it all. It was mad and quixotic and absurd, but it had a certain light of nobility. Of course, it would never do if people in general behaved like that; society simply could not go on if everyone went about espousing the cause of unhappy and badly-behaved individuals, and put on old clothes and played the Ass. But, for all that, it was not unpleasant to reflect that his own friend had chosen to do these things in despite of convention. There was a touch of fineness in it. And it was all over now, thank God.... What times they would have up in the north!