“That’s right. I hope he’s cleared his debts off by now.”
“I—I don’t think he has,” stammered I.
“Really! It’s a pity. The doctor would be much more likely to be down on him for being in debt than—”
He pulled up suddenly, as Tempest at that moment walked up. He must have heard the last few words; and if it required looks of guilt and confusion on my part to convince him we had been speaking of him, I think I gave him proof positive.
He had apparently intended to summon me to his study. But, as he saw with whom I was conferring, and overheard the subject of our conversation, he thought better of it, and with lowering face stalked away.
I wished I was dead then! Something told me I had lost my friend, and that no amount of explanation could do away with the barrier which had suddenly been erected between us.
“Awkward,” said Crofter. “It’s a good job we were talking no harm of him.”
“He won’t fancy our talking about him at all,” said I.
“I suppose we’ve as much right to talk about him as any one else.”
“He’ll be awfully down on me, I know,” said I miserably.