"My dear chap, it's no worse than the billiard room." Feathers answered irascibly. "You spend too much of your time there."
Chris looked at him in utter amazement; then he laughed.
"Is it a joke or what?" he asked helplessly.
Feathers pushed back his chair rather violently and rose.
"Think it over," he said curtly, and walked out of the room.
Chris did think it over. He went out on to the sea front, and stared at the sea, and wondered what on earth his friend had been driving at. He did not at all like the way in which Feathers had looked at him or the tone of voice in which he had spoken. As a rule, everyone looked upon Chris with approval. He threw his half- smoked cigarette over the sea wall on to the sand, and with morose 67 eyes, watched it consume away.
He was not going to be lectured by Feathers, old friends as they were! He began to feel himself distinctly ill-used.
Now he came to think of it it was pretty cool of him to take Marie Celeste off to a concert and leave him to shift for himself. He was not at all sure that he was being fairly treated.
"A penny for your thoughts." said Mrs. Heriot beside him, and he started from his reverie and laughed.
"Nothing. I was just wondering about something, that's all."