Phil laughed in his own peculiar way.
Eileen Pederstone stopped up with a start and looked at him with half frightened eyes, as if endeavouring to recall a bad dream yet half afraid lest it should return to her.
Phil knew that an echo had touched her memory from that laugh.
He was about to speak of something else, to take away her thoughts, when a shadow crept up to Phil’s side and a hand pulled at his coat sleeve.
He turned quickly and caught at the hand. He pulled its owner round sharply.
It was Smiler––the never-fading grimace on his face, through which penetrated an expression of fear.
“What is it? What is the matter?” asked Phil quickly.
Smiler moved his hands excitedly, trying desperately to make himself understood thereby.
He kept tugging at Phil’s coat, as a dog might do, and endeavoured to get him to go along with him.