“I’m sorry. Why didn’t you start dinner?”
“Because I chose to wait. Have you been all this while at Mrs. Fletcher’s?”
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. I stopped to look at the sunset on my way back, and I didn’t think of the time.”
Doctor South did not reply, and the servant brought in some grilled sprats. Philip ate them with an excellent appetite. Suddenly Doctor South shot a question at him.
“Why did you look at the sunset?”
Philip answered with his mouth full.
“Because I was happy.”
Doctor South gave him an odd look, and the shadow of a smile flickered across his old, tired face. They ate the rest of the dinner in silence; but when the maid had given them the port and left the room, the old man leaned back and fixed his sharp eyes on Philip.
“It stung you up a bit when I spoke of your game leg, young fellow?” he said.
“People always do, directly or indirectly, when they get angry with me.”