"Are you, Louis?"
"What?"
"Coming back here—soon?"
"If I—if it's the thing to do. I don't know yet. You mustn't press the matter now."
"You think there's a chance that you won't come back at all!" exclaimed Portlaw, aghast.
Malcourt's cigarette fell to pieces in his fingers.
"I'll come if I can, Billy. I tell you to let me alone.... I don't know where I am coming out—yet."
"If it's money you need, you know perfectly well—"
But Malcourt shook his head. From the moment of his entrance he had kept his face carefully averted from Hamil's view; had neither looked at him nor spoken except in monosyllabic answer to a single question.
The rattle of the buckboard on the wet gravel drive brought Portlaw to his feet. A servant appeared with Malcourt's suit-case and overcoat.