"I think you said you were going to winter here?" Mr. Price remarked, as they stepped into the street.
"Yes—if the place suits me," Mr. St. John answered; "and so far,—that is to say for the last month,—it has done so very well. Are you a resident?"
"Well, no, not exactly," the old gentleman answered; "but I have been in the habit of coming here for years."
"It is an interesting place," said Mr. St. John, "teeming with historical associations."
"Yes, it is an interesting place," Mr. Price agreed, making a little pause before he added—"full of food for reflection. Life at large is represented at Malta during the winter season, and in a little place like this humanity is under the microscope as it were, which makes it a happy hunting ground for those who have to know the world."
"Ah!" Mr. St. John ejaculated deliberately. "I should think there are some very nice people here."
"Yes—and some very nasty ones," Mr. Price rejoined. "But, of course, one must know both."
"Oh, I differ from you there!" Mr. St. John answered, smiling. "Walk not in sinners' way, you know!"
"On the contrary, I should say," Mr. Price rejoined, smiling responsively, and twitching his nose as if a gnat had tickled it; "but I allow you have got to have a good excuse when you do."
Mr. St. John smiled again slightly, but said nothing.