Can't you smoke a cigar and play a card or two--" "You know I've other commissions--" "Oh, of course; but I hoped you'd have time to take it easy.

I've looked forward to having you here--so has Malcourt; he thinks you're about right, you know.

And he makes damn few friends among men--" The door opened and Malcourt entered slowly, almost noiselessly.

There was not a vestige of colour in his face, nor of expression as he crossed the room for a match and relighted his cigarette.
"Well ?" inquired Portlaw, "did you get Cardross on the wire ?" "Yes." Malcourt stood motionless, hands in his pockets, the cigarette smoke curling up blue in the sunshine.
"I've got to go," he said.
"What for ?" demanded Portlaw, then sulkily begged pardon and pouted his dissatisfaction in silence.
"When do you go, Malcourt ?" asked Hamil, still wondering.
"Now." He lifted his head but looked across at Portlaw.

"I've telephoned the stable, and called up Pride's Fall to flag the five-thirty express," he said.
Portlaw was growing madder and madder.
"Would you mind telling me when you expect to be back ?" he inquired ill-temperedly.
"I don't know yet." "Don't know!" burst out Portlaw; "hell's bells!" Malcourt shook his head.
Portlaw profanely requested information as to how the place was to be kept going.