his shoulder as he sat in the Cosmopolis grill-room preparatory to ordering lunch, he perceived Bill bearing down upon him, obviously resolved upon joining his meal.
To his surprise, however, Bill did not instantly embark upon his usual monologue. Indeed, he hardly spoke at all. He champed a chop, and seemed to Archie to avoid his eye. It was not till lunch was over and they were smoking that he unburdened himself.
"Archie!" he said.
"Hallo, old thing!" said Archie. "Still there? I thought you'd died or something. Talk about our old pals. Tongue-tied Thomas and Silent Sammy! You could beat 'em both on the same evening."
"It's enough to make me silent."
"What is?"
Bill had relapsed into a sort of waking dream. He sat frowning sombrely, lost to the world. Archie, having waited what seemed to him a sufficient length of time for an answer to his question, bent forward and touched his brother-in-law's hand gently with the lighted end of his cigar. Bill came to himself with a howl.
"What is?" said Archie.
"What is what?" said Bill.
"Now listen, old thing," protested Archie. "Life is short and time is flying. Suppose we cut out the cross-talk. You hinted there was something on your mind—something worrying the old bean—and I'm waiting to hear what it is."
Bill fiddled a moment with his coffee-spoon.
"I'm in an awful hole," he said at last.
"What's the trouble?"
"It's about that darned girl!"
