"What, then? There is something seriously worrying you."
"Oh, there are several things," Lionel exclaimed, forced at last into confession. "I can't think what has become of Nina Ross, that's one thing; if I only knew she was safe and well, I don't think I should mind the other things. No, not a bit. But there was something about her going away that I can't explain to you, only I—I was responsible in a sort of way; and Nina and I were always such good friends and companions. Well, it's no use talking about that. Then there's another little detail," he added, with an air of indifference: "I'm engaged to be married."
Mangan stared at him.
"Engaged to be married?" he repeated, as if he had not heard aright. "To whom?"
"Miss Burgoyne."
"Miss Burgoyne—of the New Theatre?"
"The same."
"Are you out of your senses, Linn!" Maurice cried, angrily.
"No, I don't think so," he said, and he went to the mantelpiece for a cigarette.
"How did it come about?" demanded Maurice, again.