His gaiety seemed dropping
from him in this quiet room to which he was so often a visitor. The
rowdy expression faded out of his face and he found himself glancing
half furtively at his friend.
"Valentine," he presently said, "shall we really sit to-night?"
"Yes, surely. You meant to when you came here, didn't you?"
"I don't believe there is anything in it."
"We will find out. Remember that I want to get hold of your soul."
Julian laughed.
"If you ever do it will prove an old man of the sea to you," he said.
"I will risk that," Valentine answered.
And then he added:
"But, come, don't let us waste time. I will go and send away Wade.
Clear that little table by the piano."
Julian began removing the photographs and books which stood on it,
while Valentine went out of the room and told his man to go.
As soon as they heard the front door close upon him they sat down
opposite to each other as on the previous night.
They kept silence and sat for what seemed a very long time. At last
Julian said:
"Val!"
"Well?"
"Let us go back into the tentroom."
"Why?"
"Nothing will ever happen here."
"Why should anything happen there?"
"I don't know. Let us go. The fire is burning too brightly here.
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