None of them spoke during the short drive to Euston. Henry sulked in a corner of the cab, telling himself that it was monstrous of Gilbert to treat him in this fashion, and vowing that nothing would induce him to get into the train ... and then, his mind veering again, telling himself that perhaps it would be a good thing to go to Ireland for a while. Cecily had chopped and changed with him. Why should he not chop and change with her?... Neither Ninian nor Roger made any remark on the peculiarity of the journey to Ireland. They had known in the morning that Gilbert and Henry were going away that night, but it was clear that something had happened since then, that Gilbert was more intent on the journey than Henry.... No doubt, they would know in good time. Probably, Ninian thought to himself, that woman Jayne is mixed up in it....
"You get the tickets, Ninian," Gilbert said when they reached Euston. "Firsts. Democracy's all right in theory, but I don't like it in a railway carriage!"
"Where's the money?" said Ninian.
"Money! What do you want money for? All right! Here you are! You can pay me afterwards, Quinny!"
They had only a few minutes in which to get into the train, and Gilbert, putting his arm in Henry's and hurrying him towards the Irish mail, was glad that the wait would not be long.
"It's ridiculous to behave like this," said Henry, as they shoved him into a carriage.
"I know it is," Gilbert answered. He turned to Roger. "We may want grub during the night. Get some, will you! Sandwiches will do and hard-boiled eggs, if you can get 'em...."
He turned to Henry. "You're my friend, Quinny," he said, "I can't let you make a mucker of everything, can I?"
Henry did not answer.
"I know exactly how you feel," Gilbert went on. "I should feel like it myself if I were in your place, but if I were, Quinny, I'd be damned glad if you'd do the same for me!"