“Mrs. Baron had a call to pay in the same direction. Captain Ivor thought he might get half-an-hour’s sleep. Roy, be good, I entreat. Do not fidget, and knock over chairs, and talk, talk, talk, without ending.”
Roy nodded, and Lucille moved towards the door, adding, as she went, “I also have to see someone, but I shall be back soon.”
Roy sat down in a favourite attitude, facing the back of a chair, and wondering what to do next. Would it be right to tell Denham what had happened? Would it be wrong to put off telling? Curtis had enjoined him to speak at once; but Curtis had not known the posture of affairs. The matter might be of consequence, or it might not. Roy was disquieted, but not seriously uneasy; and he hesitated to worry Denham without cause.
“Seen anybody?” asked Ivor.
“Yes; numbers.”
Then a break.
“Found Curtis?”
“Yes. And Carey too. Would you like to hear all about it?”
“By-and-by, I think. It will keep.”
Silence again, and Roy debated afresh. What if his action should mean bringing Curtis into trouble? That thought had considerable weight.