"True, I see you now," rejoined the visitor carelessly, as he flung himself across the arm of a chair and swung one foot. "I do not doubt you are convinced by this time of my intention."
"My recollection does not tell me what messenger I sent to ask this interview."
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"Correct," laughed the young man a little hardly. "You didn't ask it. I attended to that myself. What you want doesn't concern me in the least. What do you suppose I care what, or what not, any of this crew wants? I'm master of my own ideas, anyway, thank God. If you don't like what I do, you can always stop me." In the tone of his voice was a distinct challenge. Galen Albret, it seemed, chose to pass it by.
"True," he replied sombrely, after a barely perceptible pause to mark his tacit displeasure. "It is your hour. Say on."
"I should like to know the date at which I take la Longue Traverse".
"You persist in that nonsense?"
"Call my departure whatever you want to—I have the name for it. When do I leave?"
"I have not decided."