"Do? I don't know. Why the devil did you suggest that they stop at your house?"
"Because, William, curious as it may seem, I had a sort of weak-minded curiosity to see my sister once more." He walked over to the table, took a cigarette and lighted it, then stood regarding the burning match in his fingers. "She's the last of the family; I'll probably never see her again—"
"She appears to be in excellent health," remarked Portlaw viciously.
"So am I; but—" He shrugged and tossed the embers of the match onto the hearth.
"But what?"
"Well, I'm going to take a vacation pretty soon—a sort of voyage, and a devilish long one, William. That's why I wanted to see her again."
"You mean to tell me you are going away?" demanded the other indignantly.
Malcourt laughed. "Oh, yes. I planned it long ago—one morning toward daybreak years ago.... A—a relative of mine started on the same voyage rather unexpectedly.... I've heard very often from him since; I'm curious to try it, too—when he makes up his mind to invite me—"
"When are you starting?" interrupted Portlaw, disgusted.
"Oh, not for a while, I think. I won't embarrass you; I'll leave everything in ship-shape—"