Roddy—except the boss, here. I heard Pipi’s yarns that night, as you did; and I have let them work on me—also as you did. That’s all there is in it, of course; and it’s the toe of my boot that Pipi’ll get instead of neckties when I run across him again. But the next time I catch you nosing into my private insanities I’ll give you a bigger licking than ever your fears gave you, Roddy.”
Ormond slipped his pipe into his pocket, and settled his shoulders comfortably under the old coat.
“Insanities,” he said; “that’s the truest word you’ve spoken this day, Murray. Take old Pipi round the township on your boot-leather, and I’ll guarantee you won’t hear anything worse than your own snoring at night. You cut along down, Roddy. I’m just coming.”
But when Roddy had gone he put his hands on the other man’s shoulders.
“Murray, old chap,” he said.
Murray’s eyes did not lift.
“Don’t!” he said in his throat. “Don’t! I’ve got to battle it out on my own. I can’t understand. But I’ve got to meet it alone, Ormond.”
“Murray———”
“You can’t help, old chap. Let me go. I can’t understand—no, I won’t go under if I can help myself. So-long.”
