Born in Exile. George Gissing
can't hide it.'
'Don't try to, I beg. But at least tell me what troubles you.'
'That's impossible,' Peak replied, drily.
'Then friendship goes for nothing,' said Marcella, with a little forced laugh.
'Yes—in all but a very few human concerns. How often could you tell me what it is that prevents your taking life cheerfully?'
He glanced at her, and Marcella's eyes fell; a moment after, there was a suspicion of colour in her cheek.
'What are you reading?' Peak asked abruptly, but in a voice of more conventional note.
'Still Hafiz.'
'I envy your power of abstraction.'
'Yet I hear that you are deeply concerned about the locomotive powers of the diatomaceaoe?'
Their eyes met, and they laughed—not very mirthfully.
'It preserves me from worse follies,' said Peak. 'After all, there are ways more or less dignified of consuming time'—
As he spoke, his ear caught a familiar name, uttered by Christian Moxey, and he turned to listen. Moxey and Earwaker were again talking of the Rev. Bruno Chilvers. Straightway disregarding Marcella, Peak gave attention to the men's dialogue, and his forehead wrinkled into scornful amusement.
'It's very interesting,' he exclaimed, at a moment when there was silence throughout the company, 'to hear that Chilvers is really coming to the front. At Whitelaw it used to be prophesied that he would be a bishop, and now I suppose he's fairly on the way to that. Shall we write letters of congratulation to him, Earwaker?'
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