“I rather think Dr. Redstone is expecting me,” he said rapidly; “I half promised to go over to Stevenish ... think I’ll just run over. The walk’ll do me good ...”
He looked rather wildly about him, then fairly bolted from the room.
Robin, the cover of the porridge dish in his hand, turned and stared at him.
“Why, whatever’s the matter with Romain?” he began.
But Horace, who had not spoken a word, was himself halfway to the door.
“Horace!” called out Robin sharply.
The boy stopped with his back towards the other. But he did not turn round.
Robin put the cover back on the porridge dish and crossed the room.
“You all seem in the deuce of a hurry this morning ...” he said.
Still the boy made no reply.