He had the
indescribable air of a "sure" man, a sound man to have beside one in a
tight place; and looking into the rather grim face, Quentin Gray felt
suddenly ashamed of himself. From Seton Pasha he knew that he could
keep nothing back. He knew that presently he should find himself
telling this quiet, brown-skinned man the whole story of his
humiliation--and he knew that Seton would not spare his feelings.
"My dear fellow," he said, "you must pardon me if I sometimes fail to
respect your wishes in this matter. When I left the East the name of
Seton Pasha was on everybody's tongue. But are you alone?"
"I am. I only arrived in London tonight and in England this morning."
"Were you thinking of dining here?"
"No; I saw you through the doorway as I was passing. But this will do
as well as another place. I gather that you are disengaged. Perhaps
you will dine with me?"
"Splendid!" cried Gray. "Wait a moment. Perhaps my table hasn't gone!"
He ran off in his boyish, impetuous fashion, and Seton watched him,
smiling quietly.
The table proved to be available, and ere long the two were discussing
an excellent dinner. Gray lost much of his irritability and began to
talk coherently upon topics of general interest.
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