I can't live without her, Benham. And then-- And
then you come worrying me to come to your damned Odessa!"
And suddenly this extraordinary young man put his hands to his face
as though he feared to lose it and would hold it on, and after an
apoplectic moment burst noisily into tears. They ran between his
fingers. "Get out of my room," he shouted, suffocatingly. "What
business have you to come prying on me?"
Benham sat down on a chair in the middle of the room and stared
round-eyed at his friend. His hands were in his pockets. For a
time he said nothing.
"Billy," he began at last, and stopped again. "Billy, in this
country somehow one wants to talk like a Russian. Billy, my dear--
I'm not your father, I'm not your judge. I'm--unreasonably fond of
you. It's not my business to settle what is right or wrong for you.
If you want to stay in Moscow, stay in Moscow. Stay here, and stay
as my guest. . . ."
He stopped and remained staring at his friend for a little space.
"I didn't know," said Prothero brokenly; "I didn't know it was
possible to get so fond of a person.
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