"Unless," said Vicary, coolly, knocking his pipe out into the grate, "unless I come with you."
Warrington drew a long breath.
"Thanks," he said, shortly, and watched Vicary putting on hat and coat, and pulled his moustache violently.
As they left the room he slipped his hand through Vicary's arm.
"This is my Kir Wallah," he said, gravely.
Vicary laughed round at him.
"There's a whacking big balance on the Chukundra side," he said.
"Needn't say good-bye to the mater," he went on, as they descended the stairs; "you'll come back to dine."
"To be cheered up," said Warrington, with pathos.
Vicary did not deign to reply to such an absurd remark. He hailed a hansom.